Leaf Soup

On the weekends I take Boo Boo to the sprinklers at Sunset Park. 

I love watching him play in the water. Just add water and sunshine, and kids will have fun, and it’s fun to watch them have fun. The older kids see that Boo Boo is a cute, curious baby that doesn’t cry too much, and most welcome him into their space–as long as he’s not trying to steal their scooters, buckets or water guns. 

This time around the space was in imaginary kitchen. A couple three-year-olds were squatting around a red bucket of water, using their hands to swirl leaves, twigs and buds around in the water. Boo Boo hovered over them, clutching one of the plastic take-out containers we’ve been using as a water “toy”, trying to see what they were doing and how he could be involved. An older girl, perhaps seven, dropped more leaves in the bucket. She stood up at stared down at the concoction, perhaps creating a snapshot in her mind of the green leaves, the tiny hands that swirled them, the red bucket, and the sun that made the water sparkle, so that she could remember this moment and think about it when she had her own kids, should she want them. 

“We’re making some soup,” she informed me, the nearest and seemingly most invested grown-up. Grown-ups occupied many of the nearby benches, but I could not tell which one was hers.

“Cool, what kind of soup?”

“Um. Leaf soup.” Instead of standing still she pranced from one foot to another. She trotted to the nearest sprinkler and stuck out of tongue to catch some water. “This water is delicious!”

“Hmm. I bet.”

The sprinklers at Sunset Park are configured in a circle, surrounded by benches and trees. In the center are two islands of greenery, probably installed to soak up some of the water. The girl  skipped to a nearby bush and yanked off some leaves. “These leaves are good for the soup. And I also found some berries.”

I peered into the bucket. The berries in question were the not-yet flowered buds from the shrubs. She tossed the leaves into the bucket, where they floated on the surface. Boo Boo squatted next to the older toddlers and tried to grab one of the leaves.

“Ope!” I reached out and touched his arm. “We have to keep the leaves in there for the soup! We can find some other leaves to put in there!”

Boo Boo retracted his arm and then tried to dunk his container in the soup. 

“We can put some leaves in there and then you can put them in the bucket!” I said as I led him to some greenery. I did not want to rip leaves off the shrubs willy nilly, so I grabbed some that had already fallen to the ground and put them in his container. 

“You can put these in the soup!” I grabbed one of the leaves and put it in the soup, and then Boo Boo, seeing what I meant, overturned his container and all the leaves fell into the soup.Then he stood and watched the other toddlers. They were breaking twigs and putting them in the soup.

“I don’t know why babies like this soup so much,” said the girl. “They just started coming over here.” She shrugged; babies are just one of those things. 

“I guess they like you.”

“I guess.”

“Do you know them?” 

“No. They just came here.” Then she ran back to the sprinkler. She led with her tongue and tried to catch more water. “This water is soooooo good! I’m glad they have this water here. I’m going to wash my hair!”

She flipped her hair down into the fountain until her dark hair glistened in the sun. Boo Boo saw her, trotted up to the fountain and did the same. He sputtered as a cascade of water ran down his forehead. His thick, long lashes were saturated with water. 

The girl laughed. “Babies always want to do what I do!” 

Boo Boo ran up to me with a whimper and wrapped his arms around my legs, wanting to be picked up. I kissed his cheek and he rested his head on my shoulder. It was time to go.

I wished the girl good luck with her soup. As we both turned to look at the soup in question one of the toddlers grabbed the handle of the bucket. The other toddler watched, unsure if any consensus had been reached about this part of the plan. The toddler struggled to lift the bucket, which capsized under the strain of its burden and the stress of being handled by inexperienced arms. 

“Uh oh!” Twigs, leaves and berries rushed to the girl’s feet like seaweed onto the shore. The girl’s young collaborators looked at her. She shrugged, unable to conjure any anger. “I guess we’ll just have to make some more!”