My Curious Girl

I have written about my daughter Rebekah before, but for the sake of any who have not read my previous tales, I will give you a snapshot of her most enduring traits. Rebekah has always had a tender heart that is full to the top with a desire to help others. Another trait of hers is, at birth, she was bestowed by the gods of mischief a curiosity that is a full order of magnitude greater than that of the rest of ‘we mere mortals’. This is a story of a time that her curiosity was the spark that ignited total chaos, which ended up becoming a good memory that I will carry with me for the rest of my life.

Many years ago, when I was still married to her mother, I was employed at a local refinery as a contract inspector. In those days I worked full time and my now ex-wife stayed at home with our three beautiful daughters, one of which, a middle child named, Rebekah. At the time of this incident, she could not have been over 5 years old and it is likely she was younger.

My day was of the normal sort, got up, drank coffee, and went to work unsuspecting of what would soon unfold. That morning Rebekah’s mother slept in, to her peril, but I am getting ahead of myself.

I was sitting in my office at about 9 am, my day well underway, when the phone rang, the caller ID showing my home number. This was nothing unusual, Rebekah's mother always called me when she got up just to say hello and see how my day was going. This time, when I answered, the reply I received came from a sobbing woman.

“Rebekah”…sob…“Glasses”…sob…“Flour”…sob…sob…“Glasses”…sob. It was at that point the full-blown crying started which offered no hope to me of understanding anything else she said. I had heard enough that I didn’t think anyone was hurt, but I headed right home to see what could have happened to get her so upset.

We lived about 10 minutes from the refinery so it wasn’t long before I stepped through the front door to a crying wife and a monumental mess. Apparently, Rebekah had gotten up before her mother, found a 5 lb bag of all-purpose flour in the kitchen, and preceded to coat the living room in a surprising uniform layer. Her mother, still crying, lifted up her glasses revealing that both lenses were missing. I think it is important to mention at this time, her mother is and always has been blind as a bat without her glasses.

I am not going to lie, by this time, I was choking back laughter. Apparently, my curious little angel had got a hold of her mother's glasses as she slept, and in the process of “exploring” them she inadvertently popped the lenses out, somewhere. I am sure there are other explanations, for now, I choose this one, The missing glasses lenses left her mother too blind to find the lenses for her glasses, which she needed to be able to see to clean up the mess.

I know that Rebekah meant no malcontent. There is no way, at her age, that she planned and executed this affair so perfectly. Looking back, I guess she may have had the help of the before mentioned mischief gods, but we can never really know if that is true.

Standing beside her, I looked down and I asked, “Rebekah, why did you pour flower all over the living room?” She looked up at me innocently, and told me that she did it because “the couch wanted to be white, Daddy”. In truth, the covering of dust on the couch was all-inclusive, and quite successfully changed the hunter-green to an off-white color.

I have always had a soft spot for Rebekah, I see a lot of myself in her, mischief is just our way, and at that moment, I could no longer contain my laughter. So there we were, her mother still holding her lensless glasses and crying. Rebekah, switching between looking up at me with guiltless eyes, and surveying her work with pride, Then there was me, having a really good, dare I say, side-splitting laughing fit.

Rebekah and her mother soon joined me in my guffaw, and just like that, a good memory was born.

Soon, I found her mother's lenses in a flour-covered laundry basked full of “clean” and folded clothing. I assume Rebekah hid them there, under the top layer, because she didn't want to get into trouble. I guess she could have made the couch white, then grabbed her mother's glasses and hid the lenses to avoid punishment. Both lead to the same place.

I repaired the glasses, or she might have, It doesn’t really matter. Either way, her mother again had sight, which meant she could now see the extent of the mess before her. I felt it was safe to return to work, leaving the lengthly cleanup in her mother's hands. I feel obligated to mention that this was one of the few times in my life that I was truly excited to go to work.

I never did punish Rebekah, how could I. In all fairness, it was the couch's fault for telling her that it wanted to be white. It was an older coach, you would think it had more sense than that.