Rooby, in my bed: Meow! Meow!

Me: Hello, kitty cat. What are you doing here? I thought you were going to get dressed. Oh wait, do kitties wear clothes?

Rooby: No, but Mom, pretend I only wore underwear, just to sleep. And dresses. Pretend my old family put them on me to protect me from the sun. Meow!

D, from downstairs: Time to come eat your breakfast!

Me: OK, kitty, better go get dressed super quick!

Rooby, as she runs from the room: And don’t forget to name me super quick!

Me: I think I’ll name you…hmm…I’ll name you—

Rooby, from her room: SUNCREAM!

New York.

“You know what I’m going to NEW YORK on an AIRPLANE to see my GRANDMA and she has TWO CATS but one of them DIED and that one was named Julia and she was my FAVORITE but the one that’s left is named BELLA!!!!!!”

I have heard Rooby deliver this breathless monologue to no fewer than eight people in the past two days, including several strangers just out walking their dogs.


Rooby: Mom, pretend I was a kitty and you found me under this blanket with all of these toys.

Me, peering under blanket: Oh, look at this kitty under here with all of these toys.

Rooby: Meow! Meow! Pretend you knew I liked to drink water so you named me Water-Likes.

Me: I can tell you like to drink water, so I’ll call you Water-Likes.

Rooby: Meow!

Me: Good Water-Likes.

Rooby, holding up John Lennon figure missing a hand: Pretend you saw this and his hand was with my parents who were killed.

Me: Oh, kitty, your John is missing a hand. Is it with your parents who were killed?

Rooby: Meow meow! Pretend that means yes.

Me: How sad.

Rooby, snuggling under the covers: Pretend I was making myself at home.

Me: Oh look, you’re making yourself at home. Would you like to live here with us, kitty?

Rooby: Meow meow meow! Ha, I tooted.

Me: Yes, I can tell.

Rooby: Can you smell it?

Me: Yes.

Rooby: Pretend I’m a tootster. That’s someone who toots.

Me: You sure are.

Rooby: It’s like a toaster, but different.


Rooby: You know what I just realized?

Me: What?

Rooby: That girls become boys, and boys become girls.

Me: That’s true, sometimes.

Rooby: But I don’t ever want to become a boy.

Me: Why not?

Rooby: Because you think girls are more stronger than boys.

Me: Well, I think they’re–


Me: Yes. Yes I do.

Rooby’s dream. 

R ends up in our bed for the last couple hours of the night because she had a bad dream. What was it about? D asks this morning. 

“A bear. And it jumped through glass. But not at our house, at … the bus stop. 

“We were going to walk Daisy, and then the bear jumped through the glass. 

“But you know what’s so strange? The bear scared me, but it also helped me. It helped me find my marble, which was kind of silver. Isn’t that strange?”

Big enough. 

Following a conversation about how she is “big enough to be expected to share my attention” with other people:

Rooby: I have a very good question. 

Me: What is it?

Rooby: If I’m big now, why do I have to do whatever you say?

Me: Well, growing up is a process. So now you’re big enough to do some things but not yet big enough to do others. 

Rooby: Like cross the street by myself, or put out fires…

Me: Uh, right.

Rooby: Or go surfing.