Momnesia

Little Pink Houses

We're riding back from swimming at the club pool. Emmie's usually so animated after these outings, joking from the back seat and sometimes whacking me in the head with her inflatable noodle and then cackling hysterically until I threaten to give the noodle to the next well-behaved child I see.

After a few minutes, she quiets down... and it's too quiet. In the rearview mirror, I see her staring out the window with a frown.

"Whatcha thinking, Doodle?"

She looks at me, guiltily, and sighs heavily: "You not goeend ta like it, Mama, an' I'm sorry."

My stomach drops three stories, but I keep my face placid. "You can tell me anything," I say. "I'm your mommy, and I will always love you."

She looks at me, warily. "Wull, I wish dat we hab da same fambily, but a different house."

"What kind of house do you want?" I ask.

"A pink an' white one."

I grin. This is not the serious issue I feared. She doesn't want a driveway (which we need). She doesn't want grass (which we only have in the front yard; see above driveway issue). She doesn't want a bigger bedroom (which she totally deserves). This problem is manageable.

"Well, what if we painted our own house pink and white?"

Her eyebrows raise in delight. A hopeful grin spread across her face. "Yeah! Dat would be great!"

"Okay. We'll talk to Daddy about it when we get home."

But by then she had forgotten about the idea entirely. Hee! Problem solved.