I just had my first Elephant Girl talk with the Bird. She was arranging me, her pillow/blanket/entertainer/lullaby-singer just so, and she demanded, "No. Your broke arm here, Mama." I felt a really powerful sadness for a moment- the implicatiions in broken of loss and dysfunction and wrongness- but explained gently: "It isn't broken Sweets. It's just my small arm. Just different." She insisted it is broken. "Somebody broke in half mama. Who broke your arm?" I told her I was born just that way, and it's fine. And here's where the tears I was choking down became hysterical laughter:
"But mama why?"
"Birdlet, the Goddess just made mama that way."
"Well den you better behave yourself."
So my baby mistakes my earthen-mystic-fate explanation for a Wrathful Punisher Goddess and I'm left thinking I should have just let her call it broke until such time as I can explain theories of amniotic bands or recessive genes or the twin absorption thing- and by the way, does that really happen? I'm gonna go use my google-fu and continue to process my strange reactions to an innocent toddler word choice.