It’s early Sunday morning and I’m sitting at the dining room table minding my own business. I am in complete bliss with my hot cup of coffee, soft pajamas and delicious Cream of Wheat. This is heaven to me. I fell in love with Cream of Wheat at a young age. Well, actually, it was called Farina and it came in a commodity box. But it was oh so delicious. At least 4-5 times a week, I indulge in Cream of Wheat (usually weekends) or Grits (usually weekdays).
Nevertheless, I’m sitting near heaven when Eve slides into a seat next to me.
Eve: Mom, do grits make those fluffy?
Eve: Do grits make those fluffy? (She gestures towards my chest.)
Sidebar: Eve has always had a….well let’s say curiosity…with breast ever since she realized her Barbie wasn't shaped like her in that department. She thinks they are called pop-pops. (I’m not ready for her to use the term “breast” so freely. She's only 5.) If you haven’t, you should read “Eve and the Case of the Pop-pops,” you should.
Me: (trying to play dumb) Eve, what are you talking about?
Eve: Mom, I’m talking about those things on your chest. You always eat grits. Do you eat it because they make your chest fluffy?
Me: (……damn…..here we go again….) (I need an easy escape…) I don’t know Eve. Go ask your Dad.
So Eve saunters into the living room and asks her Dad if grits make mom’s pop-pops fluffy. (tee-hee-hee). He stumbles and says, “What?!?!” Eve causally repeats herself. With all the patience of Job, Hubby bends down and grabs Eve by the shoulders and says pleadingly, “Eve, I need you to focus on little girl stuff, okay. I need you to focus on clothes or something.” But Eve is unrelenting, “But Daddy!!!!! I want to know!!!!!”
Hubby ushered her upstairs to get dressed. She went willingly. Hubby and I stared into each others eyes and spoke to each other without saying a word, “What are we going to do with her? If these are the type of questions she asks when she’s 5, what will she asks when she turns 15?”
Mommy Phoebe Free
These are simple letters to my kids...about their antics.