Twelve

We’ve suffered our first tragedy in China.
Emma Lee has lost her purse.
When we got her, she was clinging to a plastic grocery bag full of treats. When we finally got it away from her, she latched onto a red, cloth purse that Missy bought her in the States.
She has carried it around on her arm everywhere she has gone. Inside she carries her finger puppets, her spoon, her cup, her chopsticks, her lip balm and anything else she happens to have at the moment.
She hasn’t gone anywhere without it.
But this morning we went for a walk through town. We walked through a park, and then stopped at a Yonex tennis and badminton store. Soon after leaving there, Missy noticed that it was missing. Emma Lee must have dropped it out of her stroller.
Missy backtracked a ways trying to find it, but to no avail. Someone must have picked it up.
So far, Emma Lee has barely noticed that it’s missing. When she does, there’s going to be a major fit.
Meanwhile, Emma Lee is still jabbering like crazy, and we still have no idea what she’s saying. She’s even singing now – in Chinese.
She’s talking in complete sentences, but we can’t understand her.
A few months ago, we got a report from her foster home that said she knows some “usually words” and some “daily sentences.” She has broken out her full repertoire.
Later. We’re flying to Guangzhou this afternoon.