Taking care of mommy

Ever since she was little--yeah, yeah, she's still little, but littler--I'll tell her, "Call me if you need me." Aria has taken strongly to this, and will often ask me, when I'm putting her to bed, "I call you if I need you?" Tonight, I was taking a bath because I've been sick all week--not that I need an excuse to take a bath--and Aria was told by both her dad and my mother to take care of me. So she keeps coming down the stairs to check on me. The first time she comes downstairs, she takes in how I'm laying in the bath, my glass of ice water, and my book. "I don't read in the bath," she says.

"No, but Mommy does," I said. I picked up my water and took a sip.

"I don't drink water in the bath," she continued. "And I don't lie down like that in a bath," she said, almost accusatory.

"What do you do in the bath?" I asked.

"I play," she said excitedly, and began acting out play-bath motions. "And when I'm done, I say, 'I'm all done!'"

The second time she came down, before she left, she said, "Call me if you need me." I agreed. So she continued, "How do you you want to call me? Do you want to call me low, like this, 'Aria I need you,'" she said, pitching her voice low. Whenever she does this, she protrudes her lips out, and always has a half smile. "Or do you you want to call me high, like this, 'Aria I need you,'" she said, in a false falsetto. Smiling, I chose the low, and demonstrated it to Aria's satisfaction.

After a few few more trips down, she had me choose again, giving me the two former choices as well as one new one. "Or you can say, 'Aria I need you," she sang the words, dancing around the bathroom, "and Salsa!" So I'm pretty sure she wasn't really Salsaing, but it does beg the question: where did my daughter learn about Salsa?