Can you see them? The mittens? They’re drying on the lamp shade. Imagine a viewpoint that’s several inches lower; my granddaughter’s viewpoint. Pretty difficult to spot unless you know they’re there.
We’d been out romping in the first decent snowfall. Of course, after playing with snow, the mittens were wet. My granddaughter’s mittens are cute little knitted things, not insulated or waterproof, but enough to protect little hands during a short excursion on a 30° day. We came in as soon as I noticed how wet the mittens were. We took off our hats and layers of coats, and I draped the wet mittens on the inside of the lampshade, then went to make lunch.
Five hours later we were getting ready to leave. My daughter stopped by and we talked about the day, the three of us played together, then it was time to rummage through the big pile of blankets, sweaters, hats and coats to find clothing for the trip to the car. The monkey hat was easy, but the mittens are small; I couldn’t see them anywhere. Static could have them stuck to any of the blankets that draped, with the coats, over the old playpen, but they just weren’t there.
“Where are those mittens?” I muttered.
My daughter was about to help, then stopped and said, “Dad, did you see that? They’re here on the lamp.”
What my daughter had seen that I hadn’t was my granddaughter spinning halfway around across the room and stabbing her finger at the lamp. “She pointed to where you put the mittens.”
She hasn’t said mittens nor does she say lamp, though she’ll point to it and say on or off. At just over 18 months old, my granddaughter understood that I couldn’t find the mittens and she helped. I’m truly amazed. I’m thankful that we have the time to notice and appreciate the behavior. It really makes me wonder what else my granddaughter notices and understands even though she doesn’t talk about it? What is she thinking when, during a nap, I notice she’s awake and staring off into the distance?