Nibbles tries strategy #40 to procrastinate sleeping: “Mamma, I’m hungry”
Me? I continue to toggle between my melange of browser sessions and respond with a curt, “No, you’re not. Go to sleep”
Nibbles sports precious preschooler pout with strategy #41 to stall hitting the sack: “Mamma, I really want a huggy and a kissy and… and a grown-up to sleep next to me”. I cave in to the huggy and kissy but suggest he settle for the teddy as I settle into a home decorating article.
Nibbles plops his head in front of the monitor and whips out strategy #42 to avoid the trip to dreamland. “Mamma, what kind of a mamma are you?” Ouch. That certainly warrants more attention that reupholstering a mid-century chair in damask.
“What? What do you mean what kind of mamma?” Why are you picking questions off my head instead of asking me about mako sharks? He continues, “I mean, are you a doctor-mamma?”. Uh, nope. “Then, you know, what kind of mamma are you?”
Perfect. With all the job-quitting angst hovering around, the one thing I was sure of was that Nibbles loved having me around. “You mean, what kind of job do I have? Well, I’m, you know, your mom…”
*zonk* I hate calling mommying a job – it’s just who I am. He latched onto the uncertainty in my voice, “No, but what do you doooo?”. Completely devoid of any authority or sternness, I beg, “Nibbles, pleeeease, just go to sleep”.
Yes indeed, what do I doooo?