A is for Advent: A Three-Year-Old's Perspective

Q is for Questions

People who like pithy proverbs will say you don't know what you have until it's gone.

There's not a lot of depth in a three-year-old, though—they're small folk, not much space for it—so Timmy doesn't feel any late appreciation when he notices the bareness of Mum's desk. He feels surprise, quickly followed by panic and distress.

Mum's computer is gone.

The material concern, obviously, is that with no computer there are no DVDs. No Cars. No Minions. No Swan Princess. And not even YouTube. This puts significant stress on his anticipated afternoon plans.

"Oh, no!" he says, dropping his kindy backpack to the floor and running to Mum's desk. "Computer's gone!"

He hears Mum come into the house and shut the door. Her keys rattle as she puts them back on their hook. "Yes," she says. "The computer's gone."

Timmy finds this doesn't alleviate anything. He can see that the computer's gone, thank you very much. He'd hoped for more of an elaboration.

"Where's gone? Where's computer's gone?" He bounces his gaze between Mum and the bare desk, and back again, as if the computer might be there after all if he just looks away and blinks hard enough.

"It's at the hospital," Mum says. "The computer hospital. It's sick."

Timmy's not sure what a hospital is, but he knows what sick is. Sick makes people sad. It makes them not want to play.

"Oh, no, is sick," he says. If the computer is sick, it won't want to play either. Especially not DVDs.

When Timmy's sick, he lies on the couch and curls up into a ball. The computer isn't on the couch, though.

"Computer's at hossipal?" he says.

"Yes," Mum says. "There's no computer today."

"Oh," Timmy says. He can't argue with that. He wants to, but seeing the big nothing on the desk makes it difficult.

"You'll have to find other ways to entertain yourself," says Mum.

Timmy looks dubiously out the window. It's a miserable day outside. A day of grey clouds, cool breeze and drizzle. He doesn't want to play out there.

He doesn't want to read books, either. He's read all his own books, and he doesn't have any library books at the moment. Last time they went to the library he was only interested in the playground. Mum had said she was sick of choosing and chasing up books; if he wants to have library books at home, he has to choose them himself.

He didn't choose any. And now he has no new books to read.

It wouldn't have been a problem if the computer was there.

He plays with his little wooden tool bench instead. This mainly consists of taking bolts and tools out of the storage holes that Daniel has put them in, and fighting to put them in other ones. Daniel has no sense of hierarchic systems or colour co-ordination.

The diversion doesn't last long. Daniel takes offence at having his work summarily undone, and yells loudly in protest. Timmy yells back. Mum joins in. And then both Timmy and Daniel are sitting on their chairs, away from each other and away from the tool bench.

Mum doesn't sit on a chair. It's not fair, really.

When he's allowed off the chair, he is again faced with the question of what to do now. It's still a miserable day outside. The grey clouds are still there. He's pretty sure the cool breeze would be, too, if he stepped outside to check.

A miserable day. Perfect weather for a movie, really.

"Mum," he says. "Can watch Minion?" 

"How do you expect to do that?" Mum asks.

Timmy doesn't understand the question. "Um, Minion," he says.

"There is no computer, Timmy!" says Mum. "You can't watch Minions when there is no computer!"

No computer, no Minions. Okay. It's disappointing, but he'll move to Plan B.

"Watch Cars?" he says.

Mum just blinks at him, then says, "Seriously, Timmy?"

Timmy blinks back. He doesn't know what she means. Maybe she didn't understand.

"Watch Cars?" he tries again.

"No!" Mum says. "Not watch Cars! Not watch anything!"

He decides he's not going to ask for YouTube. 

People who like pithy proverbs will say misery loves company. Timmy doesn't have the depth of mind to contemplate the applications of that one either. He just hopes the computer gets better soon. 

It's good company.