Recent Reilly Kate

Reilly Kate has been an intriguing conversationist lately. Here's some of what she's been saying.

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I was telling Reilly Kate that if she didn't behave I would call up Santa and let him know just to skip our house this year. It had no effect. So I decided to dig a bit deeper.

"Reilly Kate," I said in a deep, very serious tone, "You don't seem to understand how close Santa and I are. We go way back. Waaaaaaaay back. We went to school together. We were in the same class. We graduated together. We are old friends."

She looked me straight in the eye and with just as serious a tone as I had used said, "No, you aren't. He didn't go to school with you. He goes to school with me. He's in my class."

"Which class?" I asked.

"Miss Maureen's class. He goes to school with me. He's in my class. We're old friends."

I think I've met my match.

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We were at McDonalds and Reilly Kate looked behind us at one of the workers emptying the garbage. She was an ordinary Filipina in her 60s donning an unflattering McD's uniform and a hairnet.

Well, Reilly turned back toward me and leaning in toward me says, "Mama. She's PRETTY."

At first I was so taken back, I didn't really know what to say. She's pretty? Hmmmm...

"You should go and tell her that, Reilly Kate. That would be nice if you did that."

Without a word more, she got up and went straight over to that lady and did just that. It was the sweetest thing. I'm sure it made that lady feel like a million bucks.

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Speaking of beauty, Tuesday morning while I'm getting Reilly Kate dressed for school she says to me, quite upset and almost in tears, "I don't want red hair. I want blonde hair like you and Roman. Why can't I have blonde hair, too."

"Because you are beautiful with your red hair. You are a very, very beautiful girl, Reilly Kate," I reassured her.

"I don't want to be beautiful. I want to look like you, Mama."

Ahhhh... such love and devotion.

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Last weekend while purchasing our car, Reilly Kate started tell me that she missed her cat. Now, let me tell you, we are NOT cat people. We don't have a cat. We don't want a cat. Mike's allergic to cats. Cats. No.

But Reilly at a very young age showed a definite affinity to cats. She flips for them. I'm convinced at some point we will in fact have one in the house. But not now.

So she is going on and on, getting herself quite worked up. I tried like hell to ignore her but when she was practically bawling over this cat, I decided to humor her.

"What cat, Reilly? What cat are you talking about?"

"My cat," she replied as if I'd lost my mind.

"You don't have a cat." I told her.

"Yes, I do. I do have a cat." She argued.

"Oh, yeah? What's your cat's name?" I queried.

"Papay," (pronounced like "papaya" with that "a" at the end) she informed me.

"Papay, huh. And what color is he?" I'll play your game, little missy, I thought.

"He's black with green eyes," she looked at me like I was a complete idiot.

"Where is your black cat named Papay?" I asked.

"At the barn. The red barn. He's sleeping in the red barn and I miss him so much. I really miss Papay, Mama." She was starting to work herself up again.

"What's he doing in the barn?"

She snapped her head to give a rather sharp look and said, "He sleeping!!!"

"Why don't we just go and get him, then?"

"The barn is over three hours away, Mama. We can't go there today"

If anyone has any idea what the hell she's talking about, could you please let me know.