Momnesia

GooGoo for Gaga

Augusta, GA. - “Mamaaaa!” Emmie shrieks as she approaches, her Nona just behind her. “Did you know dat Lady Gaga is REAL?!”

Oh, did I forget to mention Emerson’s new obsession? Yeah. Well. Apparently, Lady Gaga is “da coolest bestest lady in da world.” Gee, thanks. I’ll remember that the next time you ask me for something, Emmie. Like a kidney.

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“Uh, honey?” I call to Scott, after peeking over Emerson’s shoulder at the YouTube video she has pulled up. “Emerson is watching a video about how to be Lady Gaga…?”

"Yeah. She already told me that she wants to be Lady Gaga when she grows up.”

“Well, who doesn’t?”

“I know, with her money, who wouldn’t?”

I was really thinking about the designer clothes…

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“Did you know dat? Did you know dat Lady Gaga is real?” Emmie runs right up in my grill.

“Yes, sweetie, I did know that.”

Her face falls, then brightens.

“But you nebber MEET her!”

“True,” I concede.

“I’m goeend ta meet her. But Nona say she libbs in Californya?” she wrinkles her forehead at me.

“Probably.”

“But why?”

“Cause that’s where famous people live.”

“Can we go der?”

“Maybe one day.”

“AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!” she screams and runs in circles. “An’ I goeend meet LADY GAGAAAAAA!”

Good. Lord.

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“Is she allowed to watch that?” Nona asks, concern filling her face. A naked back and side-boob are not appropriate television for little girls. By the way, we’re at the country club pool, where naked back and side-boob are everywere.

“Yeah, for now. If she starts asking for Alexander McQueen shoes, though, we’re putting a stop to it.”

“But… they’re in their underwear!”

“You know what underwear is?” I ask.

“What?”

“Bathing suits that are called underwear.”

That didn’t win me any points.