The things kids say. We parents tend to talk about this a lot. Mispronounced words, crazy statements, things that just make you want to wet your pants in uncontrolled laughter when you hear them. You know the drill. Zara has had some fairly humorous examples in the past that I've shared before.

Yet there are times when words spill out of their mouths that just stun you. They'll say something that just shows you how much their brains have grown, how much they have learned, what quantum leaps they've made in logic that somehow you missed. Tuesday night was one of those nights.

She had been put to bed that evening as per the usual routine. But as she sometimes does, she woke up around 1 AM whining for her daddy to give her a drink of water/come stay with her or other distraction to keep her from having to go back to sleep. From what I heard he had obliged her with both water and company for a good while until she had fallen back asleep. Now it was a little after 2 AM and she was back begging for Daddy to come stay with her again. So by now, her second waking, AdoringHusband was at the go back to bed Zara response stage. This was met with more whining and crying, and that finally roused me from my Lunesta-induced slumber.

Waking up, I heard more plaintive wails of "Daddy, I need a hug! I need a hug!" from her room. AdoringHusband was repeating the "go to sleep, Zara" admonishment by way of response. But she wailed on.

Eventually I just had to get up and deal with the standoff. I was not pleased because with my insomnia once I wake up, I'm up.

"Zara," I said more sharply than I planned to upon entering her room, "exactly what is the matter?!"

"Mommy I need a hug," she wailed again, extending the word hug for a full 5 seconds.

"Why do you suddenly need a hug at 2 in the morning?"

"Because my bucket is empty," she responded sadly.

"Your bucket is empty?" I repeated in surprise.

"Yes, if you're bucket is empty," she explained patiently, "you need hugs from friends to help fill it up again and make you feel better."

I truly hope that she couldn't see my gobsmacked expression in the dim light of the room. I thought, how did she come up with that analogy? Was this something she learned in school? How did she manage to relate her feelings of sadness, loneliness or longing with her bucket being empty?

It was one of those moments where I wondered who is this little girl? Two seconds ago she was a curlyheaded infant crying when her diaper was wet. Now this profound child in front of me was explaining that a good hug would fill her bucket and make her feel better. That's an incredible leap!

Though I had felt so frustrated and tired upon entering her room, now the moment had turned into one of those times of hyperawareness. Time seems to stand still and there is nothing else in the universe but you and the person in front of you. I was acutely aware of the curve of her forehead, her inquisitive brown eyes, and her Cupid's bow mouth whose ends were curving downward in sadness. A corona of hair frizz framed her face. And I thought again, who is this deep little girl?

I scooped both her and the ever present Rae-Rae into my arms, burying my face into her hair and inhaling. I've always loved the smell of her. I felt her body relax into the curves of my arms and I knew somehow that she felt better.

"Sweetie, why is your bucket empty?" I asked softly in her ear.

"Because Grandma Ericka died," she said sadly.

That evening we had watched our wedding video and she got to see some images of her grandmother, my mother, who had died before she was born. She had asked me whether I missed her and I told her that I did every day. But I knew she was watching over us always to keep us safe.

"Honey, Grandma Ericka died a very long time ago. I'm sorry you didn't get a chance to meet her but she is in heaven watching us and loving us even if we can't see her." Zara snuggled in a little closer to me.

"I didn't get to see her," she said sleepily.

"It's OK. She still loves you and protects you from heaven. One day we will all be together again. But right now someone needs to go back to sleep. And I don't mean Rae-Rae."

After a little bit she started to relax more as she drifted into sleep. I slid her back onto her pillow and tucked her in with more kisses. Quietly I made it back to our room.

Of course by then I was unable to sleep. But I kept going over that amazing statement in my head again and again. My bucket is empty. I'm still shaken by its depth.

I honestly don't know if her seeing my mother on the screen was the true reason her bucket was empty that night. I'm not so sure as we've dealt with Grandma Ericka many times before. There may have been something else that she was unable to fully verbalize. But I'm still stunned at how self-aware she is for someone not quite four years old.

Since then, every evening I ask her about her bucket. If she says it's empty, I make sure I slow down and give her what she needs so that it stays full as long as possible. She deserves nothing less.