My daughter has now hit the lovely age of blurting out every damn things that comes to her mind.
Sometimes, this is cute. For instance, the other day we are driving to preschool and, no shit, my kid goes, “Mommy? What’s migration?” And I am thinking my kid is a goddamned genius, which leads to me silently mocking all the experts that warn against TV or chicken nuggets.
Then we go to Olive Garden (I know, big night out!). Sofia and I leave our seat in the waiting area to go potty. When we come back, there is a woman sitting where we were, breastfeeding her baby. Obviously empathetic to this scenario I have no problem giving up my seat. Sofia, however, points at the lady and says, “that lady took our seat!” At which point I do damage control assuring the poor new mom that I am happy to stand and please don’t worry about it. I want to tell her to enjoy the quiet life–that crying is manageable compared to formulating thoughts and words. Alas, she was a new mom in the throes of just ensuring her kid survives.
Stay tuned. I am sure I will be sharing more socially awkward moments brought to you by my mouthy daughter. It must be a genetic mutation. I can’t imagine where she gets it from.