Yesterday, my six-year-old daughter had a playdate with a girl from school. These two girls’ friendship is based solely on the fact that they are both named Elizabeth; which, when you are in 1st grade makes you instant soul-mates, kindred spirits and best friends. Whereas my Elizabeth only uses her full name at school and at home goes by Ellie, the other Elizabeth goes by Liz all the time. I’ve decided that the name Liz is much more sophisticated than the name Ellie (think Liz Taylor vs. Ellie Mae Clampett). Which is probably the reason the child Liz is better behaved than the child Ellie. It has nothing to do with parenting and everything to do with naming. No parenting book or expert is going to convince me otherwise. (Although I’m sure that Ellie Mae Clampett could totally take Liz Taylor in mud wrestling.)
So yesterday I was taking Liz home after the playdate and I walked her up to her apartment and then spent a few minutes talking to her mother, a lovely Chinese woman named Christine (another sophisticated name, much more so than the name Erin.) During our conversation Christine told me that she loves to have Ellie over and that she would like to have her over more often if possible because every afternoon they have Pie. This statement caused me to immediately size up Christine’s hips and wonder how on earth someone who has pie every afternoon could possibly be the size 0 that she obviously was. What kind of freaky Chinese metabolism is that?!
She then said some more things that I didn’t hear because I was completely lost in thought over the pie every afternoon comment when she shook me out of my thought process by introducing me not to the large fruit or cream filled tart I was thinking of, but instead to her Thai domestic helper named Pie (or Pi, or maybe Py, or possibly Pai or maybe even π. Not sure which she prefers).
I’m certain that if I had a domestic helper named Pie I would weigh 250 lbs. since just the mention of the word gives me a hankerin’.