Honey Baby

I was sitting on the bed checking my email on my iPhone when Sadie, my two-year-old, grabbed the comforter with both hands and pulled herself up beside me.

“MOH-MA, you be da baby.” She ordered.

Sadie likes to make me be “her baby.” She makes me Pretend Food, kisses Pretend Boo-Boos and makes me go Pretend Potty.

She says things like, “OH! Honey BABEE! Whassa matter? Oh shhh-shhh-shhh! Eeet’s okay!” (Which makes me feel great about my parenting skills.) Then she says things like, “IF YOU DON’T EAT DIS DINNUR WIGHT NOW YOU IS IN BIG TWOUBLE!” (Which makes me think maybe I could do better.)

I like to blow her mind by yelling at her in my Baby Voice when she makes me go to Pretend Sleep.

“Cwose you wittle eyes, honey baby,” she croons.

I close my eyes for two seconds, pop them open then yell, “WAHHHH! I meed to poo-poo! I’m thirsty! I want a song!”

She starts to sing and I interrupt her, “NOT THAT SONG! SING ANOTHER ONE!!” I wail in my baby voice. She grins and giggles and knows she’s being teased. It’s a game we play well.

“MOH-MA!! BE DA BABY, I SAID!” She insisted again. I dropped my phone on the bed, curled up in the fetal position and threw myself into my character. (I make an awesome baby.)

“Wahhh!” I begin our routine.

“Oh, honey baby! You can’t sweep wif Mommy’s phone!” She said, simultaneously snatching up my iPhone and sliding off the end of the bed and out of my room.

Well played, Honey Baby, well played.