PETERSEN: Vermont Chapter

The study of a four-year-old mind

Missy:  We have to take Dad to the airport today so he can go to his interviews.  Do you know what an interview is?

Enoch: No.

Missy: It’s where someone asks you a bunch of questions and if they like the way you answer them you get a job.

Enoch:  Like washing the floor…or fixing the lights?

Hopefully the last four years of medical school wouldn’t result in a janitorial career.

Enoch took a ride on a little train that ran through the mall.  Chase approached him as the train drove by, “Where are you going?” he asked.  “The Jerassic time period!” called the four-year-old and squawked as loud as he could; trying to be a dinosaur.

When a new baby is born parents take extra care to ensure the infant is kept safe and warm.  Tessa is a very small baby so socks fit her rather loosely.  Enoch has found the foot to sock ratio advantageous in his new “pestering” stage.  I’ve cradled the baby and tuned out the constant noise and bullying movement of Enoch only to look down at the infant’s bare, sock-free foot.  Then I see Enoch, holding up her loose-fitting socks to his face and grinning at me, taunting with the stolen goods.  One day I walked around the corner and happened to peer into the room when something caught my eye.  Could it be? There, hidden inside a house plant, was a nest made of a number of infant socks!  Apparently the four-year-old didn’t want to deal with the fall-out when he presented the result of his teasing so he hid them, all in the same spot.

Chase came home one day and taught Enoch a new word: Ecchymosis.

Sitting on the step of our kitchen I am putting on Enoch’s shoes.

“Come here my son.” I instruct him.

Obediently he sits down, “Enoch sun, Mama a cloud.”

“I’m a cloud?  What is Daddy?”

“Daddy rain.”

Appropriately labeled.  Clouds can be happy and bright one minute then dark and cruel the next.  At least the sun and rain are constants.  That’s the Petersen Weather.

One evening Chase was playing a game with Enoch, lifting him over his head up to the ceiling.  Chase would ask, “Where’s Enoch?” I’d play along, “Uh oh, where did he go?”

“Here am Mommy!” cried Enoch with his back against the ceiling.

After several rounds of the same game Chase defined that this was the last time he’d lift Enoch to the ceiling.  We played it out and , as expected, the boy asked to play again.  When he was reminded that was his last turn he stood perplexed, staring up at Chase. He was quiet for moment then turned to me, “Mommy, Enoch on the ceiling?”

“I’m too short to put you on the ceiling.” I replied.

Another moment of silence and a look of contemplation, then, “Mommy drink milk.  Grow big and strong like Daddy.” Walking to the refrigerator, Enoch picked up a cup and filled it with water from the ice-cube dispenser. “There go Mommy.” he said handing me the product of his efforts.  Enoch’s problem solving:  If Dad can reach the ceiling and Mommy can’t then  . . .  I’ve been told milk will make me big and strong so . . . if Mom drinks milk then she’ll grow big and strong, like Dad.