Buckle, pull, adjust, pinch, done.
You look out the car window and beg for another banana as I ready ourselves to head home.
When you and I are on a school break, we tend to visit the grocery store for fun (and maybe some more expensive berries).
We walk every aisle, greet every stranger who smiles at you, and do the equivalent of Marie Kondo to the products I know we shouldn’t get. Modeling discipline and self-restriction as I walk by the Nutella, saying, “Not for a while, we don’t need that!”
We get what we need, find joy in our little field trip to Aldi, and then you ask if it’s time to go home to see Dada.
“Dada home?”
“Soon, Mamashanta. Dada is at school. He’ll be home for dinner!”
I get behind the wheel, buckle up, and turn the little monitor on (I know, I know, I’m one of those moms with the car camera to see her while I drive—just wait for it). Now that I think about it, I could easily write a mini-series called Slices from the Car. Today, though, it’s what I heard, not what I saw, that caught me.
We wait for our light to turn left onto 22nd Street when I hear you say some familiar words. “Babusta time!” You repeat it softly and calmly—nothing like your vocal cord experiment by the fruit aisle just minutes ago. Note to self: Yes, toddlers scream.
Your “Babusta Time!” pulls my attention from the red light because it’s what your dad and I say when bath time is over. Babushka Time!
See, when you were a tiny baby, Dada would wrap you in a huge towel and call you “my little babushka.” Ever since, when your bath is over, and it’s time to get in your towel, we say, “Babushka Time!”
Note to self: don’t go down the ‘She doesn’t fit in that big towel anymore; my heart aches…’ void. I will never come back.
You repeat it once again, “Babusta Time!” so I stop picturing your tiny face wrapped in white cotton and look in the monitor. There you are, using the Aldi receipt to wrap a tiny light remote you stole from the living room.
I want to intervene so badly, but then I remember some Instagram mom/speech therapist saying, “Do not interrupt moments of focus and play because of blah blah blah…”
I interrupt.
“Elena, are you giving the remote a bath?”
You pull this mischievous smile and say, “Yeah! Babusta Time!”
The light turns green, and we get going. I stop asking you questions, and you finish the bath, then move on to whatever treasures you find tucked in the seat. What a successful afternoon trip: expensive berries, fun interactions with strangers, and a slice to schedule for tomorrow.
I love you, Elena!

I’ve missed commenting here for a few days and LOOK at the cuteness I missed. Oh. My. Goodness. Not only is Elena the cutest babushka ever but this moment you’ve captured is amazing. I am in love. What a wonderful slice.
LikeLike
Ana, what a sweet little babushkika! Your writing is lovely, heartfelt, and makes me, as a reader, feel peaceful.
LikeLike
The pretend play is so real these days! I was a preschool teacher for many years, but Elena keeps surprising me with new eras she enters—always without warning, haha!
LikeLike
This girl sees an entire world in the weirdest things! Hahah
Thanks, partner!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Babushkiitaaaa
It feels like only yesterday when she was crawling on our classroom rug *crying!*
LikeLiked by 1 person
This slice has such a relaxed feel. There is no rushing. You’re justing enjoying the moment with your girl. Once again, your love shines.
LikeLike
Thanks, Iva!
It’s so much fun to relive these moments in my head as I write them. So glad for this challenge and the fuel to get them down!
LikeLike
Thanks, Celia!
LikeLike
I know! It’s such a sweet reflection of their relationship. Thank you, Trish!
LikeLike
Thank you!!
LikeLike
What a sweet, sweet moment! Thank you for letting us savor this time with Elena with you!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Love…not like! The photo captures this moment with Dada, and that you take us through this experience adding your innermost feelings lets us remember the same bittersweet watershed moments we have had. I love that Elena is mirroring the tenderness of her father with the remote (even if toddlers do scream sometimes!). Such a sweet series of moments here in this car Slice.
LikeLiked by 1 person
In love with the Babushka!!!!
LikeLike
Such a delightful slice with you and your daughter. I wish I had been writing slices back when I had a little one. So many moments to capture and hold. It’s amazing what their memories retain and the whole babushka setting is so sweet. Precious moments to retain and reflect on.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh, Ana, I love this Slice of childhood so much. From the expensive berries to the holding off on Nutella (because once you start, you can never, ever go back!), to the imitative play with the remote. It’s a reminder of how important our every moment with our children is – they are always watching and learning from us, and you captured it beautifully. (and that picture – oh my!)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Anaaaa this is tooooo cute!!! This might be my favorite slice😍 I felt like I was at the passenger seat watching all of this unfold, listening to your thoughts, or as if you were just speaking to me. I always appreciate these slices of your intimate moments with your little babushkita❤️
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is sooo sweet. I love the details of the stolen remote, Elena wrapping it in a receipt like a towel. All of the details make me feel like I’m right there with you, and I love the fourth wall interruptions you have with yourself/the readers (this time, us SOL readers, not Elena!). It’s a very cool juxtaposition.
LikeLiked by 1 person
A receipt and a remote! A perfect pair of toys for pretend play! Love this so much! And, it’s awesome that you have a collection of writing to preserve memories as she grows. Someday she’ll love reading them!
LikeLiked by 1 person