Momnesia

Love, Actually

Emmie was staying with my parents for the week after Christmas, and I called her every day. One day, she was all in a tizzy.

"I goeend out to Granny's room 'cause I hafta tell you sumpeend, an' iss a seeecret!" she whispered.

"Okay..."

"Okay, I closeend da door. Mama? I gotta tell you sumpeend. I'm in lub."

"Oh, really?" I asked, amused - and mildly concerned.

"YETH!"

"With whom?"

"... I don' brenembered his name," she thought.

"Um... (snicker) Well, where did you meet him?"

"I diddin meet him. I see him on da telebision."

"Ohhhh," I breathed, much relieved. No convent admissions packet needed - for now. "What show was he on?"

"I don' brenembered da name ub it," she said. "But deres four boys, an' a mean girl, and one of da boys is mean..."

"Uh-huh..." I ran a mental checklist of the shows on Nickelodeon and The Disney Channel. "Was is 'Big Time Rush?'"

"YETH!" she shrieked. "Dats IT! Mama, we godda go to dere concert!"

"Yeah, that's not gonna happen," I chortled.

There was a moment of silence on the other end, and I just knew - the way moms know - that she was about to erupt into hysterics.

"They're not playing a concert near us," I interjected, before she could unleash the fury.

"Ohhh," she sighed, disappointed.

"But maybe we can find something for your birthday," I mused.

And maybe, just maybe, if you're very good and very quiet, I'll let you watch mommy poke out her own eardrums.