Have you ever been told you are a drunk from a toddler? I have.
Well, I guess my child doesn’t actually know what being a drunk means, but I
know Chase was alluding to the fact that he thinks I am one...
The other day I walked up to Chase and gave him a kiss on
the cheek (which isn’t out of the ordinary since he receives nearly 1,440
kisses from me a day- if you are doing the math it equals out to one kiss every
minute- which is a pretty accurate guess) and typically Chase would have just wiped the
kiss off or pretended like I wasn’t hovering around him and ignore my kind act. But this day was a little different.
After I planted a gigantic wet kiss on his
cheek, I heard him mumble something under his breath. I asked him to repeat what he said because I
didn’t quite catch it (and I want to know everything he says in case he is telling
me how much he appreciates my simple acts of kindness). So he repeated it louder as if he was annoyed, “Mom, I said you
have beer on your breath.”
I stood there dumbfounded for a second and then my
dumbfounded-nesss (apparently, spell check doesn’t think dumbfounded-ness is a
word- but I do) disappeared and turned into a need to defend myself. So I replied, “Um no sweetheart, Mommy never
has beer on her breath, if anything it is the aroma of wine you are smelling.”
It’s like my child doesn’t think I’m sophisticated. I like to think I’m a little classier than a simple
can of Coors; anyone who knows me knows I’m more of a, drink my boxed wine
in a plastic cup through a green straw, kinda gal. Looking back on this moment (which will
certainly not be documented in Chase's baby book), I think maybe I should have been
more concerned with the fact that my toddler thinks I constantly reek of alcohol
then being offended by the type of alcohol he labeled me with.
Any who, Happy Friday!
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