A Mommy Story

Cordy walks into the kitchen.

C: Mommy? I need help.

Me: With what?

C: My cup. It’s broken. (Puts sippy cup on the counter.)

Me: It’s broken? What’s wrong with it?

C: It’s empty. It needs juice. Fix my cup, mommy?

Me: (laughing my ass off because in college we’d always talk about our “broken” [empty] drink cups at parties)

***************

In the car.

Mira: Aaaaawaaaaawawaaaaaaeeeeeaa (longest I’ve ever heard her vocalize – must have been 15 seconds without a breath)

Me: (looking at Aaron and laughing in amazement) What was THAT?

Cordy: (totally serious from the back, with a sigh) That was MIRA, mommy.

I could practically hear her rolling her eyes at me.

**************

In the living room. Cordy is behind me.

C: Mommy, get me gone?

Me: What? Get what?

C: Get me gone, mommy!

Me: Get you gone?

(I turn to see this:)

Me: You want me to mail you somewhere?

C: Yes!

Me: OK, where should I send you?

C: To outer space!

Me: Hmmm…I don’t think we can afford the postage, sweetie.