Bottle

On Saturday we went to the Arts festival (Ahts festival) and this was our experience on the subway.
A four year old girl gets on with her mom at Harvard Square and she’s clearly upset.  With tears streaming down her little face, she sits down next to Rebecca and says to her mom, “I miss bottle.”  I thought I misheard but again she waved out the window and said, “Bye bottle, I miss you.” 
That must be her nickname for her brother or cousin, I thought.  But then when her mom said, “It’s okay honey, we can get another bottle.” I realized that they were talking about an actual bottle.  With tears still flowing the conversation continues like this:
“What’s going to happen to it?” 
“It’s going to be recycled.”
“You mean it’s going be a new bottle?”
“Yes, honey.  It’s going to be a brand new bottle.”
(long pause)
“I DON”T WANT IT TO GET CRUSHED!”  followed by more tears.
Now I’m thinking that her favorite sippy cup has been lost and I want to buy her a new one immediately. A pink one with lots of bling on it.
After a minute mom goes and sits across from her next to another woman who comments on the situation.
The woman asks about the cup and mom says, “Oh no, it was a soda bottle.”  I have two thoughts.
Isn’t it weird the things little kids get attached to?
That four year old totally understands the concept and process of recycling.

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The devil is in the details.

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