Don’t like it.

Mack came downstairs after NOT taking a nap.  He is loving the train set that I finally pulled out of the closet yesterday.  I haven’t even set it up yet, but he is playing with the remote controls and just really enjoying himself.  I let him have the train in the bed because he was so stinkin’ cute as he asked for it….and he had just pooped IN THE POTTY!  Yipeee.  BUT, during the next hour I could hear the sounds of the train and then I heard him scooting down the stairs…thump, thump, thump.  He came and saw me.  “Mack, why didn’t you take a nap?”  He said in a very matter-of-fact tone, “Me don’t like naps.”  And he walked away like that was perfectly acceptable.

If life were only that simple.

“Kristy, why haven’t you done laundry over the past month?”

“Me don’t like laundry.”

“Kristy, why aren’t you cooking dinner for us any more?”

Me don’t like cooking.”

Oh, the list that I could write.  Of course, I am 32 years old and not 2 years old, like Mack.  Guess I better act like it, huh?

In moments like this I cling to comfort things that get me through the eight loads of laundry and dinner time that is quickly approaching—candy corn and pumpkin spice creamer for my coffee.