Monday, March 7, 2011

Called Out on the Carpet

The other day my son ran over to me practically breathless and beside himself. "Mommy, Mommy, Mommy! Come see, I have to show you, come see now, I have to show you. You're going to be SO surprised. You're going to freak out, come see now!" Of course I one hundred percent believed he was about to lead me to a leaning tower of coffee mugs or a sink filled with shaving cream and red hots (again). But no. This time, I really was surprised. I really was going to freak out. I really didn't love it.

"It's YOU, Mommy!" Smiles. Smiles. Hopping. Smiles.

"It's...................... me?" It was like looking into a mirror.

"It's YOU! Aren't you surprised? are your arms, your legs, your nose holes, your eyes..."

"And my hair?" I say pointing to the rug where half a French beret was teetering on my bald nugget head. Ooooh la la madame.

"Yes!" he decides to throw me a bone, "and these are your legs but... I forgot your feet."

"Nice Bud. You got me. You really captured my essence. Especially the hair. That is me in a nutshell. Well done!" Seriously, especially the hair.

"But I forgot your feet." He looked absolutely crestfallen.

"Ah, whaddaya need feet for when you're a shapely baked potato? Feet are overrated. Those stick legs will do the job just fine." Definitely generous in the leg department, there is that.

"Okay Mommy. I'm sorry I forgot your feet." Really? Are we not going to discuss the portly beige elephant in the room?

"No way, I LOVE not having feet. I won't have to worry about putting my shoes on the shoe rack ALL day!" Take the high road, Mom. He's only a child. He's not your husband.

Two high fives and one great bear hug later and I really am quite psyched to be the Lady in the Carpet wearing a few nose holes, Picasso eyes, and shopping in the elastic waist department.

Sh*t. At least the round blob of lard in a pool of Jello shots is smiling. I am a happy little porker, aren't I?


pajama mom said...

captured on film forever!

in the kids' pics over here,
i'm always sleeping.
or resting.
or relaxing.
(i can only imagine what
the teachers think)

One Sided Momma said...

i'm in trouble if he/she takes to drawing mommy in school:

mommy with a wine glass
mommy with a wine bottle
back of mommy's head as she sits at computer
and so on...