What does a mommy do?

Abbey. The things she says keep me rolling with laughter. Here’s a snippet of a conversation that passed between her and me a couple of weeks ago.

(Mommy is in the hallway folding a pile of laundry that runs up to her hip. Why the clothes were in the hallway is another story. Abbey is bringing things from her room to show me, one item at a time, so that after I fold the laundry I will have the great pleasure of returning the items to her room. At the beginning of our story, she is standing behind no less than eight pair of little girl pretend dress-up shoes.)

 

Abbey (trying on Cinderella dress): “Look, Mommy! Isn’t this one pretty?

Mommy (folding blue jeans): “Yes, Honey, it’s lovely. I think you look nice in blue.”

Abbey (trying on coordinating blue shoes): “Look! They match!”

Mommy (folding a towel that was once white): “Yes, dear, they’re very nice.”

Abbey (trying on red Snow White dress inside-out): Look at this one, Mommy! It’s red! Granny likes red.”

Mommy (wondering whether the green blob embedded into the t-shirt she’s just picked up to fold is Play-Doh or chewing gum that’s been through the dryer): “Yes, I do think Granny would like that one.”

Abbey (holding out magic wand): Here, Mommy. You can have this. You can use it to turn that into a mommy.

Mommy (taking wand):”Oh, that’s nice, Abbey. What does a mommy do?”

Abbey: Dishes.

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