My girl, she has a fantastic sense of humor. I may have mentioned this before. She makes me full-on laugh to the point of tears or snorts (yes, snorts) daily. Sunday it was her response to my saying that I love the Rangers more than I love her: with a deadpan expression, she turned to me and gave me the ASL sign for "bullshit". (Yes, I taught her that....*gold star*)
Yesterday it was her worrying about how she looked out in public since she was home sick from school. She looked fine, in shorts and a shirt, and I made some not-really-paying-attention comment along the lines of "You look beautiful no matter what". Her response: She started to shuffle and sing "I'm sexy and I know it", ending with "I work out, out, out..."
Most of my pictures of her the past year or so have been ridiculously silly. I get smartass grins or hand gestures, and it always makes me laugh. Is she inappropriate at times? Oh, yes. Is it my fault? Probably. But the kid? She knows what to say, and when. And I LOVE that she has picked up one of the traits I love about myself: finding humor in shitty situations.
We run to Target for a pair of flip flops for her. She outgrew last summer's, and I have been calling them trip flops since that is all she does in them. I actually threw them in the recycling bin a couple of weeks ago, and kept putting off this damn task of trying on 1200 pairs of flip flops until she finds the pair THAT FITS JUST RIGHT, IT IS TOO TIGHT, OH, I WANT IT TO BE SOFTER, MY FOOT FEELS FAT,THEY ARE TOO BIG, THEY ARE TOO SMALL, THEY ARE PERFECT BUT I WANT ANOTHER COLOR....omg. OMG.
So. She's home sick again today, so we go. I don't know what I'm thinking. I am uber stressed with the closing on the house this week and moving this weekend and being deathly afraid of having enough money, so I already knew I had very little patience for.... (cueing the ASL sign) bullshit.
But anyway. She didn't find a pair of flip flops she liked. She explanation above. But that isn't the point here.
Walking through the baby section, we both point out various adorable infant outfits. "Awwww." "Look at this one!" "I love this!"
Blah blah blah.
My daughter knows me well enough to know I want more children. She also knows me well enough to know that it hurts to see people having babies and to even see cute little outfits. I don't say anything, but I don't need to. She just knows.
We walk on in silence, and I feel her hand find mine, her thumb rub softly on the top of my hand. I look down at her, looking up at me, broad smile shining.
"When are you going to get a boyfriend?"
"You have been alone too long."
"Who ARE you, kid?"
"Your daughter, who wants you to get a boyfriend."
"Because I know you want more babies."
"Yes, you are right, but it isn't that simple...."
"Sure it is!"
We walk out of the store in silence.
"When you have another baby...."
"Could you have a black baby please?"
I couldn't stop laughing. I love this kid.
"Mom, you always say they are beautiful, and I like their hair, so we both win!"
Seriously. She is soooo mine.