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"Mommy, can you hear me when I talk to you in the TV?" My four-year-old asks me on the telephone.
For a minute I feel like I'm having a Poltergeist moment (for those of you who are too young it's a horror movie where the kid gets trapped in the television set with the ghosts and she communicates with her parents from inside the box). Then I realize what she means is that she's talking to me while I'm on television. Because I'm a television news reporter this makes perfect sense. At first I'm horrified wondering what my story was that day, but then realize it was something totally mundane that probably went way over her head.
"No Sweetie, Mommy can't hear you when I'm on TV, but I know you're out there," I say cheerfully. I picture her sweet, round cherubic face up close in front of the television set, her pudgy little hands with chipping, pink sparkle nail polish pressed against the screen.
"How do you know I'm there if you can't hear me?" She asks pointedly. "Can you see me?"
"Well I know, because I just know you're always out there. I'm always thinking about you no matter what I'm doing," I say trying to pull my reasoning out of the abyss. This seems to temporarily satisfy her curiosity.
"Okay, well the next time will you remember to say 'Hi' to me?"
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