Heard at the dinner table tonight:
“Mom, do you ever wish you were a cow so you could be milked? It would be so fun. When I grow up I’m gonna be a cow. Rylee, don’t you want to be a cow?”
Me thinking- well considering the hundreds (no joking) of hours I’ve spent with a pump already in my 6 years of mothering, I could safely say with a smile “No, I don’t think I want to do that. It actually doesn’t sound fun at all to me.”
Quiet stares. “Okay, well you could be a farmer.”
Perfect, sounds absolutely lovely to me. I actually had the desire yesterday to go out my back door, yell with my kids as loud as we could, then come back inside. I quickly realized it was early and we couldn’t do that. Oh to have wide open spaces for yelling and running!
Unrelated, but a piece of advice: When potty training the two year old, don’t choose reward candy that you enjoy. Then you might eat them all yourself in the exasperated moments of accidents and be left without the necessary incentive when you need it. Trader Joe’s miniature peanut butter cups. They looked cute and tiny and perfect. I don’t even like chocolate right? They should have stayed at the store.