One morning, just days before her 3rd birthday,
Willa and I had the following exchange...What would you like for breakfast?
I wanna root beer float.
That's not breakfast food, choose something else.
I wanna cookie and chocolate.
No. You need to put something good for you in your belly.
I wanna root beer float.
That's not breakfast food, choose something else.
I wanna cookie and chocolate.
No. You need to put something good for you in your belly.
A silent pause coupled with this look.
I now know that this was not a look.
It was a warning.
Can I have oatmeal?
Yes. Oatmeal is a great choice.
Yes it is, your high-ny ass.
My turn to take a silent pause. I'm a seasoned mom and very careful
not to show my certain surprise or possible concern
over her choice of words.
There's no way she said that intentionally.
I will let it go and I will not laugh.
OK. Will you please get the oatmeal?
Yes, your high-ny ass.
Completely intentional.
I laughed and she had her oatmeal.
