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For Therapeutic Musings

(I’ve had this in my draft folder for a while – just never hit publish) 


* * * * * *

Lovegirl and I went to K.ohl’s the other night.  She insisted on riding in the basket because she was “tired. ” She also insisted on bringing her cell phone in the store, “in case somebody tries to call me, Mama.”  While I was trying to decide whether or not to buy a pair of pants (I did), she dropped her phone.  “Mama, will you pick up my phone please?”  So I do and hand it back to her.  “Thanks Gorgeous – you’re such a swell mom!”

Thanks Gorgeous? I’m a “swell mom?”  Where does this kid get this stuff??

* * * * * *

Lovegirl:  Mom, can you take me to see B.arack O.bama?

Nerd Girl:  Honey, I don’t think we can just go see President O.bama.

Lovegirl:  Why?

Nerd Girl:  Well, he’s the President honey, and he’s very busy.  I don’t think we’ll be able to go see him right now.  I don’t even know him.

Lovegirl:  Well, can you take me to see Jesus?  You know him, don’t you?


* * * * * *

Lovegirl singing softly:  I bust the windows out your car . . . .

Nerd Girl:  Lovegirl, I told you not to sing that song.  Mama doesn’t like it. 

Lovegirl:  Okay.

Moments later, she’s singing it again.

Nerd Girl:  Lovegirl . . . . .

Lovegirl:  Oh Mama, I just love that song.  It has a nice beat.  And she must have been really mad to bust the windows out of a car.  Don’t you think?


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