Mamalade

My 3-year-old granddaughter Hayley was enjoying helping me to clean up. But when I got out the vacuum cleaner, she put her fingers in her ears.

“No, Meemar,” she said. “It’s too loud. It’s too scary!”

“You’re like Oscar!” I said. (Oscar & Olive are my cats.) “He runs and hides when I turn on the vacuum cleaner. But Ollie doesn’t mind – she just says, ‘It’s only the vacuum cleaner…’ ”

Hayley gave me a condescending look. “Meemar, cat’s can’t talk!” Then she added, “But they do in the movies.”

“They don’t really talk in the movies.” I tried to explain it was really people talking for them, but she kept insisting, “Cat’s do talk in movies!”

I could show her how its done with my little webcam, I thought. “We could make a movie with Olive in it,” I suggested. “And we could talk for her…”

“No, Meemar!!” said Hayley firmly. “Olive the other reindeer is not a cat!”

“Olive is my cat’s name,” I tried to explain without laughing, “but we usually call her ‘Ollie.’”

“No,” corrected Hayley. “It’s Olive the other reindeer – and he’s not a cat!”

I guessed she was thinking of the song “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.” Foolishly, I tried to explain that it was really “All of (not Olive) the other reindeer used to laugh and call him names.” But of course, that was lost on a determined 3-year-old.

“No, Meemar,” she said. “His name’s Olive!”

When Frances came home, I told her about our enlightening conversation.

“’But Olive the other reindeer’ is a dog,” she said. “It’s in a movie.”

Now I’m really confused!

“Cat’s do talk in movies, Meemar,” said Hayley.