7:30 AM and wiping some dog poop off my shoe.Then I knock at the door. It is my day with Milena.
Her mommy: “She is tired already.” Mommy and Papa leave to work.
I: “Night-night, Mili?”
She, yawning : “No.”
Putting her in her crib. Cry. Taking her out of the crib.
“Hungry?” I ask.
“Fish,” she answers.
I have her in the high chair with fish crackers.
She, shaking her head: “No.”
I, making a scrambled egg: “Egg?”
I, bringing the heavy artillery: “Berries?”
Fish crackers, egg, yogurt and berries are on her plate, in separate sections.
She, starting to make a mess:”Fish.”
I really wished I knew what fish she was talking about.
I put her down on the floor.
“Where is the fish?”
She stretches her arm pointing to the counter.
Yeap. There it is, a black fish in a small tank I haven’t seen earlier.
“Are you hungry?” I don’t let go.