“Mama, what’s your favorite part about being a mom?”
Sweet, I thought at first. But then I saw right through her. She’s smart, this one. What’s the easiest way to beat someone at Perpetual Commotion? Distraction.
“Um, so I could have someone to always beat at board games, obviously.”
“Come on, really. What’s the very best part?”
“So I can have someone to play with my hair and watch schmoopy shows with?”
…
“So I won’t be alone when Daddy goes on business trips?”
…
“So I can have someone who looks at me, and says “I LOVE YOU,” and I know, from the bottom of my heart, that they really and truly mean it. Wow. That sounds kind of selfish, doesn’t it?”
“I think it sounds perfect. Mama?”
“Yes.”
“I LOVE YOU. AND I JUST WON THE GAME.”
“You little monster!”
“Mama, what’s your least favorite part about being a mom?”
“That’s easy.”
THIS is my life.
“Mama, are you going to finish that glass of water?”
“Mama! I’m so thirsty! I need a drink right this very minute!”
“Mama, can I just have a sip of your tea?”
“Mama, I need a drink. Can I have your water bottle?”
“Can I have your cup?”
“Can I have your glass?”
“Can I have your mug?”
“Can I have your [insert any other drink receptacle here]?”
And the problem is that I don’t share drinks with my children. (Once they’ve drunk, it’s sunk.)
Not since January 16th, 2007.
That was the unfortunate time I took a swig of my water bottle and realized that the little tiny thing that had just “had a teensy, weensy sip” of my water had left behind some half-eaten cashews.
I’m gagging just thinking about it. And it was SEVEN years ago.
*Shudders*
This is the reason why my nightstand often looks like this.
No open water bottle is safe.
Ever.
Sometimes I dream of a world where I can drink my drinks safely without the possibility of theft, or half-eaten food particles.
But then I’d have no one to play with my hair or watch crappy tv with.
And I’d be alone when Daddy goes on business trips.
And there’d be no one to unconditionally love me.
And there’d be no one to beat me at Perpetual Commotion.