She has inexplicably tidy handwriting - inexplicably has handwriting at all; inexplicably can spell fifteen words in twenty instead of zero - which she uses, rather a lot. She makes a list of things that are food and magnetizes it to the fridge for reference, adding to it when she locates more things that are food, and when she is trying to tackle complex books she takes notes on who all the characters are so she doesn't have to page backward to remind herself, and she discovers journaling, even though she doesn't have that many events to record.
One day, the event she has to record is: Chris says to morrow she wil go to the DMV and shud not have us ther becas it may take six ours. We wil be baybe sat. If I hav ben baybe sat be for I do not remembre it.
She is curious about the imminent babysitter, and is up bright and early on the day when same may be expected.
"Thanks," she says. "Have a safe trip home."
No one is panicking about Katie's lack of thumpiness, so neither does she. She goes back to toybox-rummaging and starts to make things out of legos.
It having been previously established that Katie does not think of legos as food, Chris keeps an eye on her but doesn't interfere.
Katie makes a lego stirring rod, and attempts to stir the flowers around in the bowl. It doesn't work very well; she giggles when her stirrer breaks.
The list of unfamiliar words contains mostly nouns, and while many of them are relatively advanced - or archaic, given the source material - words, some of them aren't especially. She had to look up "aneurysm" and "Mormon", but she also had to look up "blood" and "cigar".
"Blood" is certainly the weirdest gap in Katie's vocabulary, but she was also pretty thoroughly devoid of knowledge of geography, apparently. She made a confused note about "hunting for food" - nothing Katie eats runs away and she hasn't seen anyone's carnivore entrées in a motile state - and she also had to look up "married" and "horse".
Eventually - during an apparent lull in legoing - she asks, "Katie, can I listen to you not thump?"
Katie does indeed not thump.
She listens to herself, to double-check, and verifies that the stethoscope does indeed transmit appropriate thumping.
"Huh," she says.