This was the exchange I had with Lily this morning after, upon walking out into the semi-darkness of our predawn trudge to the bus stop, she insisted on wearing her sunglasses. She was also wearing her faux fur coat, which is badly in need of a toss in the gentle cycle, a pink floppy hat, and a string of hot pink beads that somehow got twisted around her neck about a block from the house and she started grabbing at it, "Mama! I'm stuck!"
Quick-thinking wondermother plucked the necklace from her tender throat and and placed it in my pocket for safekeeping (ie to be tossed in the garbage as soon as I saw her off to school). She also decided to hand me the glasses before the end of our walk, and those got slipped into my pocket without a thought as well. She said, "Mama, don't forget to give those back to me! I want to wear them to school!"
We met up with my friend Julie and her daughter Ella, and listened to their little girl conversation as we hurried to meet the school bus. (Ella: "who invented food?"
Lily: "My mom doesn't like to eat pigs or cows")
It wasn't until I got off the train in the city and started walking to work that I put my hand in my pocket and felt the little sunglasses.
Sometimes being a working mother is kind of hard.
3 days ago