Hug a Moose!

We were driving around on vacation in Tahoe.  Ella, who's 2 1/2, was upset about something.  She began to whine, "I want my pony!"  Of course, Flicka, the beloved pony, was at home.

I attempted to soothe her, suggesting that Fred, the dog, was at the Tahoe house, and that I was sure that hugging Fred when we got back to the house in a very, very few minutes, would help her because, as we girls know, really any furry, four-legged thing always helps.

Ella isn't satisfied.  "I want my pony!" she reminds us, louder now.

I can hear the wheels turning in Evan's head.

"Hey!" he says.  "Ella should hug a moose!"

"A moose?" I say, wondering what on earth made him think of mooses.  (Is that the plural for moose - mooses?  Meeses?  I have no idea.)

"Yea!" Evan's very enthusiastic about this idea.  "Ella should hug a moose.  That would make her feel better.  Ella, you should hug a moose!  They're furry with four legs, right Mommy?  Right, Mommy?"

Well, I have to admit that he is right.

Ella is far from convinced and her brother's "hug a moose" idea is only increasing her distress.  "I no like mooses!  I only love ponies and dogs!" she yells, just in case he can't hear her way over there in his car seat on the other side of the truck.

Evan's undeterred and, in his own way, is trying to be helpful. "No, you should hug a moose.  That will make you feel better! Yep.  A moose.  Hug a moose!"

Thankfully, Fred the dog wasn't far away.