Momnesia

Back Seat Doodle

Augusta, Ga. - We're decked out in classic swimming attire, including EarthFare shopping bag (because I couldn't find the tote bag), old bath towels (because I couldn't find the beach towels), and matching candy necklaces (because - hello, candy).

We've just hit Bobby Jones Expressway to go to Nona and Opa's house and swim in the pool.

"Mama?" Em squints out the window. "Are you sure you goeend da right way?"

I start. She's five, y'all, and I am mildly insulted that she would question me on this 30-minute trip that we've made hundreds on times.

"Uh, yeah, Sacagewea, I am."

She gives me the death stare. She doesn't know what I just called her, but she knows it was sarcasm. I can't help it. Her ignorance is the only thing that keeps me from letting her go off to work each morning while I enroll myself in Pre-K.

"Mama..." She sighs. "Do you breenemered da trip to buy da curtains?"

Holy. Dog. Bones.

See, I was trying to get to IKEA in Atlanta. But I couldn't quite get there amongst the one-way streets and the suddenly-we're-on-I-85-what-happened? I circled within sight of the big blue building helplessly, while a carload of exhausted children waited with almost inhuman patience. It took forever for us to get to the dang store. They all got ice creams cones for their awesomeness.

"Um. Yeah. I remember."

"Dats wut I'm talkin' about."

"Okay, good point. But I'm sure about this direction."

I hear her heave a world-weary sigh: "If you say so, mama."


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