A Typical Conversation
A TYPICAL CONVERSATION
CHILD (A child, age 2 years and 2 weeks. Aside from Sesame Street,
the characters CHILD mentions—DIEGO, LUKE, RAE-RAE,
’TINE—are classmates and teachers from day care)
MOTHER (A mother, 38)
A chair at a kitchen table. Laminate wood-grain, food smears.
It’s raining, it’s raining Mommy. Hattie hears the rain.
(Child notices mother writing)
My paper. Hattie write.
(Mother draws him, a crude cartoon)
(Mother draws him)
Mommy. Playin’ outside.
(Mother gives child a bottle)
Do you like your milk?
(Mother draws her)
(Mother draws her. Child takes pen, scratches out drawings)
Hattie miss it. More. More Rae-Rae, Tine.
(Mother draws it, describes it: Here are the candles, here’s the frosting . . .)
Hattie blows out candles. All gone.
(Grabs pen, crosses out candles)
Hattie misses it. More a-candles.
Watch a Count.
(She means the one from Sesame Street)
Count, Count. Elmo, Elmo, Elmo.
Honey bun, it’s almost bedtime.
No. No bed.
(Picks up glasses case from the table)
Daddy new glasses. Daddy new glasses. Daddy new glasses. Daddy Daddy.
Draw Elmo. Hattie draw Elmo.
(Mother draws Elmo’s face, a bad rendition)
(Mother attempts to draw Count von Count, even worse)
I guess I don’t know how to draw the Count.
(Cut to later. MOTHER and CHILD upstairs, reading a Sesame Street picture book. Facing pages with a crowd scene of a fair. Child points at drawing of a little boy.)
Oh yeah, he’s got his hands in his pockets.
Oh sure. Maybe he’s going to the market to buy something with money.