My daughter at 3 ½ has no concept of money or that I actually work.
Nor should she really at 3 1/2.
Whenever I get a sitter, she asks
“Mama … you do yoga”
“You get sushi?”
And frankly both of those are valid questions but…
I do work.
And I like have a good job.
I am not sure what she thinks happens when she goes to school?
That maybe I just sit around and watch Dora and Caillou (which that last whiney one will just about put me over the edge every time)
During my business trip w/ the girls, we ordered a pizza one night (to vary the menu and because I cannot bear to pay 7.95 for kid’s spaghetti and then have the guy tell me we are out of cheese)
You are out of cheese?
I mean it’s not like I asked for a chimpanzee or something from a Mayan temple.
I mean parmesan cheese with spaghetti – seems pretty STANDARD DAMNIT.
Don’t look at me as if I am being bitchy…
Cuz I CAN do bitchy…
So the pizza guy shows up and hands me the pizza – just like that.
Like the fairy Godmother sent him.
Landon is just really awestruck…
“Dis so licious mommy….
It my favorite”
Which makes it the 48th favorite thing of the day.
“Mommy can we stay here?
Is this someone’s house?
Da man comes to da door with dis yummiest pizza?”
She didn’t see me give the credit card number or take a receipt (not the she would know what that was)
She thinks it’s magic.
And people just keep showing up with things…
“Mommy I so loves it here….
I so enjoying myself…”
She says as my little princess lies among the fluffy white pillows.
“Mommy? You get me a snack…
And something a drink…
And a blanket…
And my bear?”
Cuz seriously? I am not moving from this fluffy little slice of heaven.
I may have just created a monster.