Conversations with a 5 year old
In the kitchen this morning:
Meg: Laurie, do you want to watch a scary movie with me?
Me: No, thank you. But you can watch it by yourself if you want to.
Me: I don't really like scary movies, is why.
Meg: But moms don't get scared.
Me: I'm not a mom, so I still get scared.
Me: I'm not a mom.
Meg: Yes you are.
Me: No, I'm not. You have to have kids to be a mom and I don't have kids.
Meg: YOU DON'T HAVE KIDS?!
Meg: Why not?
Me: Because I don't. I never have. ... I don't have a husband, either.
Meg: I don't understand this.
Sitting in chairs at the bookstore while Julie was in line for customer service:
Meg, leaning into me, running her hand over my upper arm: This is squishy.
Me: I know. I'm squishy everywhere. See? (As I poked into my squishy stomach, squishy arms and squishy legs. ... Meg's mom is rail thin, so the child has no concept of squishy women.)
Me: I know! Come here, and hug me.
She came over and leaned into my chest, wrapped her arms around my middle and squeezed. I pushed against her hands so she could feel how squishy my sides and back are. She giggled and hugged me tighter, and then, pulling away...
Meg: It's okay that you're squishy, because you're so beautiful.
At the store, after spending ten minutes trying on shirts while Julie checked out:
Meg: You were right, I like to go to the store now.
Me: Because we got to try on shoes and clothes?
Meg: Because Laurie is here.
I love this child! (And not only because she keeps telling me how pretty I am, usually while she's running her finger over the moles on my chin. Silly girl.)
Family, specifically my little cousins, make me happy.