Momnesia

Where Do They Come Up With These Things?

Emmie and I are snuggling in her bed, reading a book about "Finding Nemo."

"Can you find the pirate?" I ask, and she frowns in concentration.

"No! I not see da pirate!" she says.

"I'm just joking! There's no pirate," I laugh.

"Awwww, you mate a joke," she laughs. "Can you find da elephant?"

I pretend to look.

"NO! I mate a joke, too, mama!" she laughs uproariously. "Elephant not lib in da oshun!"

We giggle and kick our legs under the blanket. Then she puts on her serious face.

"I don' like da pirates," she says.

"No?"

"Nuh-uh," she shakes her curls. "Dey gonna slap me in da face."

... "Uh, what?"

"Mmmhmm! Dey gon' slap me in my face," she nods vigorously, as she flips pages in the book.

"Why are the pirates going to slap you in face?"

"Cause da pirates are da bad man," she explains. "Dey slap me in da face. But den I gon' get my arr-matey, an' I gon' slap DEM in da face."

What the hell is she talking about? "Honey, who's going to slap you in the face?" I ask.

She sighs and clutches my face in her hands: "Lithen to me. Da pirates. Dey are bad people. Dey gon' slap me, but I gonna slap DEM in da face wif my arr-matey, and den dey gon' cry cry cry and run away and I sabe your life!"

... We stare at each other for a few moments. She is intense. I am unnerved.

"I see. And who told you this?"

She goes back to flipping pages in her book: "I did."

"You told yourself this?"

"Uh-huh."

...

"And what happens after they run away?"

"Den the woof come. But I arready got my arr-matey, so I gon' slap HIM in da face and he gon' run away."

"Really."

"Yep."

"What if the wolf just wants to be friends?"

She whips her head around to look at me, incredulity etched across her face. "NO! Da woof is bad! He bite bite bite! But I gon' slap him wif my arrmatey, an' he gon' run away!"

"There's a lot of slapping going on around here. What's up with that?"

She looks up at the ceiling. I snort into her pillow.

"No, honey, what's this slapping thing you've gotten on? Why are so concerned about pirates slapping people?"

"Cause... cause... cause.." she trails off. I wait...

..."cause dey bad!" she finishes. I can't really argue with that.

"Oh."

"You see? You unnerstan' me, mama?" she asks, one hand on my cheek.

"Yes."

"You say, 'Yes, ma'am,'" she commands. I grin, and she laughs.

"Yes, ma'am. Pirates bad. Wolves bad. We slap them with our arrmateys," I sum up.

"Berry good. Now go sleepies. I gon' go play peeyooter," she says, and slides off the bed onto the floor.

"Um, excuse me...?" I call, and she turns and shoots back into the bed, laughing.

"Iss time for night-night?" she giggles, as we both laugh.

"Yes, time for night-night," I chuckle.

"Okay, mama. I lub you. You a good girl."

"Thanks, doodle."

"You welcome."