Wednesday, September 26, 2012

No. Maybe. Yes.

I have a mother autopilot.
It's a simple setting.
No.

Mom, can I...
No.
Mama, will you...
No.
Mom...
No.

I don't know if it's about simplifying or advanced training after living with my children because I know the end of each of those sentences before they ask.

Mom, can I pour some bird food in the sun room to see if the birds will follow me inside?
Mama, can we buy a little airplane? Or helicopter if that costs too much...
Mom, do you think my boots will look better if we glue some sequins on them?

Sometimes they actually say something reasonable while I am still in No mode.
Mom, can I have a piece of gum?
No.
But I ate my dinner.
No.
Yes I did!
What did you say? ( I seriously only catch about one out 48 things they say to me some days )

Sunday the Cowgirl was holding up a jar of peanut butter and her lips were moving and I was about to say no when I registered her question.
Mom, can I put a little peanut butter in a bowl and eat it for a snack?

My brain was pushing the word out, it was hanging on my tongue. Say no. No. No.
A moment of silence before I took the peanut butter from her hand and grabbed a bowl.

It's better if you melt some chocolate chips in it, I told her.

The Cowgirl and the Dancer got big eyes, tried to decide if an alien had invaded their mother and then must have decided that it wasn't such a bad thing.. Apparently aliens let you eat melted peanut butter and chocolate.

Thirty seconds later- bliss!



Deciding that this might be her luckiest day, the Cowgirl asked if she could dip a chocolate marshmallow into the our new concoction.

Why the heck not?
It's so fun to say yes.
Sometimes.
I'm still not buying an airplane or helping her catch a squirrel for a pet,
or trying to make a new rat cage out of duct tape
or letting her keep dead cicadas because they look cool
or...


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