We went on a road trip to the coastal city of Mar del Plata to get away for the afternoon, and before we had even left our town of Pinamar our youngest daughter started talking.
She likes to talk, especially in cars.
It was past lunchtime and we hadn’t eaten before leaving, and so her chatter soon turned to starvation.
I said, “We’ll get there soon, and we can all sit down.”
“But we’re already sitting down,” she said.
She meant it. She had forgotten to eat breakfast, and her hunger was increasing. By 3 p.m. and still no lunch, she was starting to suck her index finger.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“I’m about to start chewing!” she said.
After lunch and a few walks on the beach in Mar del Plata, it was time to make the hour-and-a-half drive home to Pinamar. Darkness came, and the youngest piped up again to ask how long it would take to get home.
I told her that it wouldn’t take long, and then I asked her why.
“I’m dying of thirst, and I’m sick of swallowing my saliva!”
I drove faster.