Princess (our cat) was an inside cat, but after an incident involving my fabric and her nasty bodily functions, she became an outside kitty. She’s been in the great outdoors for under a week, and generally stays close to the house.
Yesterday afternoon I noticed that she wasn’t around. I wasn’t worried; I knew she’d come back if she was hungry. This morning she arrived- and with a friend. Bella was thrilled. “Princess has a friend, Mommy!” She talked to Princess and “Princess’ friend” for a while. She asked where Princess had gone yesterday, and I told her that Princess had gone on an adventure. The answer apparently satisfied her, because she went back to rubbing Princess and talking to the visiting cat.
Then she asked me, “Where is it, Mommy? I can’t find it!”
“What can’t you find?” I asked.
“The adventure, Mommy. I don’t see the adventure.”
Holding back laughter, I explained to her that you can’t see an adventure; it is something you do. “Like when we go on a walk. Or when you ride on Daddy’s motorcycle. Our trip to Michigan was an adventure.”
I thought she got it. But she didn’t. A few minutes later she asked, “But where’s the adventure, Mommy?”
I could have given her an answer she would never understand- she is the adventure.