Gertrude's kindergarten teacher has had just one area of concern: no matter how many times it was explained it to her, she just couldn't keep straight which coins were pennies, nickels, dimes, and quarters.
(However, she knows the PIN to my checking account.)
So we've been giving Gert a handful of coins each week and letting her shop with them so she gets a sense of what the coins mean.
Gert likey the shopping.
With a Target gift card her babysitter gave her, she shopped for the perfect pink purse and a wallet. In it, she keeps her Cotton Candy Chapstick, Bubble Tape, Ring Pops, and all her other change-driven thrill purchases. This purse has become Gert's lifeline and primary reason for leaving the house.
I took Gert and her purse to the mall with the promise of a Cinnabon because we needed a girl's day out and I needed her to try on some pants. Of course, I got sidetracked by $4 clearance shirts at Old Navy, so Gert sat on the floor and counted her change while I rooted through racks.
"Hey mom, what's this?"
I looked down, and Gert was holding up a very alarming pink satin and lace thong.
I very much wanted her to stop touching it.
"It's just underwear," I said. "Just put it down."
"WHAT?" said Gert in disbelief. "This is NOT underwear! HOW is this underwear? Where does it go? I don't get it!"
"Just. Put. It. Down," I repeated.
"But where did it come from? I don't see any other underpants around here. Did part of it fall off? What does this tag say?"
I exhaled. "Please trust me on this one," I said. "It's just very skinny underwear. I swear to you."
Gert was quiet for a long time. Then she announced, "Oh, I get it. This part is where you put the vagina!"
"Please give it to me," I said, holding out my hand.
"Hold on." Gert opened her purse and unzipped her wallet. "I think I have enough money to buy it."