Old

Jane’s old crib had an attached dresser on the side, its top serving as a shelf over her bed. When she got big enough to reach the top, we began leaving a cup of milk there when we put her down so if she got thirsty during the night she could take care of herself and we wouldn’t’ have to get up.

To keep her from drinking the milk the next morning, I’d announce that this was the “old milk” and that I needed to get her “new milk,” with emphasis on the old and the new. I’d repeat it several more times as I heated up the morning’s milk. “The new milk is almost ready!”

She got the message quickly: old = bad, new = good.

We’ve created a monster.

Since she has no real sense of time, or spoilage, things can become old very quickly and if something (anything really, if it’s the same) is newer, the older is old and unacceptable.

Milk can be old, socks can be old, if I put something back in the refrigerator because she’s had only a bite or two and try to give it to her later, uh huh, it’s old.

She will periodically decide her diaper is old and demand a new one even though it’s clean and dry.