I may or may not have mentioned that I have a 2-year-old daughter and a 4-year-old son. Both are a delight and joy to my life, and one day we hope to have another two littles to round out our family to another nice even number of six. For now, I am satisfied with the two littles that I have as they keep me on my toes.
While my 4-year-old boy little, A, was at preschool this morning, my 2-year-old girl little, B, was taking advantage of the uninterrupted, non-competitive mommy time. This usually involves me pretending to talk to various family members on a fake phone, reading That’s Not My Fairy a few hundred times, then ending this with a rousing round of Sesame Street.
Today she was sitting on my lap, in a cuddly mood, when she reaches out for my necklace and exclaims in delight, “Mama! A pocket!” After which she promptly sticks my necklace charm straight into my cleavage, followed by a finger and repeating herself, “Pocket, Mama! Pocket!”
Ah, the delight of children discovering your bodily idiosyncrasies. Similarly, I was once cleaning out the car with A and he is asking about what it is like to grow up, specifically getting taller. The conversation went like this:
A: Mommy, I am getting to be so tall.
Mommy: Yes, A, you certainly are. You’re my big boy!
A: One day I’ll be as tall as you.
Mommy: Yes, honey. You’ll probably be even taller than Daddy.
A: Yeah, I’ll be as big and tall as Daddy and I’ll have great big nipples just like you.
Mommy: Well, only mommy’s have nipples big like me so you won’t be growing them.
A, don’t you remember what Mommy said about talking about other people’s bodies
and private parts?
A: Oh, yeah. I forgot.
Mother’s curses abound.