Thursday, April 20, 2006
Commuter tax
"I want to dive, Mama."
That's how we begin and end every commute lately. She's decided it's not befitting her place in the family to be relegated to the carseat. She want's to be in control.
She's extremely crafty, too. Notice how she calls me "MAMA" when she wants something. She knows it's my weakness. She's even figured out she can drive me up a wall by calling me "MA," the most recent of incarnations of my role to her. First I was Mama, then Mommy then, heartbreakingly, Mom. "Ma" is a word that I don't even want to think about. I'd rather she call me the big bad MF-word than "Ma."
And so, for ten minutes as we pull out of the parking lot and on to the road to Yaya's house, we go over the rules of the state and how they stipulate she has to be at least 16 before she will get to ride behind the wheel. I think she got the point I was trying to make, however, when I told her if she wanted to drive before she turned 35 she'd better not call me "MA."
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2 comments:
Funny how the crafty little creatures learn to use the 'mom' 'mommy' thing to their advantage.
Mine are seven and ten now, so they mostly call me mom, EXCEPT when they want something. They know I turn to putty with the 'mommy' and the big sad-clown eyes.
(thanks for visiting my blog!)
-sweatpantsmom
Mine has taken to calling me "Dah-Anna"...she picked it up from the older children I watch. This is NOT ok.
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