Mornings with Squeaker
Squeaker was in his favorite Batman pajamas, running around the house with a Transformer plane and shouting, “Okay, Mom. I got this, Mom. Good job, Mom.”
“You’ve got what, hon?” I asked him.
He gave me the Threenager stare.** “I not talking to you, Mom. I talking to the real Mom.”
“Oh. I’m not the real Mom?”
He showed me his Transformer plane. “No. This the real Mom.”
Well. He told me. ”You’re so funny,” I said to him.
He puffed up his chest. “I not funny,” he declared. “I’m Batman!”
So, there you have it. I’m not raising Squeaker. I’m raising Batman. (And heaven help us when he outgrows these pajamas.)
**Thanks to Sacha at Gonna Need More Books for introducing me to the term Threenager. It fits so well.
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