I lift a headphone. "Yeah?"
"Can I have my music on too?"
She's sitting at her computer near mine, playing World Dress Up on girlsgogames.com. I notice, by the way, that they have Ancient Egypt, Ancient Greece, Sweden....and 'Africa.' As if Africa is one big country, instead of 47 different ones on the mainland alone. 'Africa.' WHERE in Africa? Because there are some teensy little ethnic, cultural and linguistic differences between, say, Tunisia and Zimbabwe. Kenya and Senegal. Ethiopia and Libya. Benin and, yes, Egypt. Madagascar and Central African Republic--where I bet you don't even know what's going on, like I didn't until I read that.
(Oh, and if, like me, you were vague in your understanding of these events, then you owe it to yourself to face up to the apocalypse happening in the Democratic Republic of Congo too. Money's right in the first grafs.)
"You can play your music, but softly," I tell her. "I need to concentrate."
"Mom?"
"Yeah."
"It's okay, I'm going to go brush my teeth."
"'Kay."
She gets up and points at her screen. "Here, do this game. It's really fun. It's 'Make Over Studio.'"
"I can't right now, hon. But you leave it up and I'll try it if I have time."
"Mom?"
"Yes?"
(Very quiet) "I don't want to go to school today."
"I know, hon. Most kids feel that way. But you'll see 'Ashanta.' You'll see 'Jelicia.' You'll see 'Antonia.'"
Yes. That's right. She nods. Heads for the door. "--Mom?"
"Yes honey."
"Can I eat a banana in the car on the way to school?"
"Sure. Just brush your teeth first."
"Mom?"
"Sweetheart, I need to finish what I'm doing before we have to go. You go brush your teeth."
"Okay."
