Tonight, as we are sitting in the living room at Grandma's house, getting shoes on and preparing to leave, a cricket begins to sing. The cricket is obviously in the room with us - it is too loud to be anywhere else. Maggie is instantly bothered by this fact and the questions of how it got in there and how it will get out begin immediately.
This continues on the drive home.
We finally convince her that the cricket will likely die because he won't be able to jump out of the fireplace as the flue is closed and it is much easier to jump down the chimney than up and out.
Maggie is not bothered by the death of this bug - it is loud, and a bug, so it garners no sympathy from her. I also do not know if she fully understands that it will die, and therefore cease singing, because her main concern is making the cricket quiet, even though we have left Grandma's and can no longer hear it. She goes over and over this dilemma until she formulates a solid plan:
"Maybe when Santa comes he can squish it."
Problem = Solved.
