This came out of the blue yesterday as we were cleaning up her room.
"I picked you, Momma."
"What?"
"I picked you to be my Momma."
"When did you pick me?"
"A long time ago last Saturday. I just did."
"Who told you that? Did someone tell you that at church?"
*exasperated* "No, Momma. I picked you to be my Momma and I picked Daddy to be my Daddy."
"Well, honey, that's sweet. Thank you for picking me. I think I probably picked you to be my daughter too."
"You made a good choice Momma."
"I picked you, Momma."
"What?"
"I picked you to be my Momma."
"When did you pick me?"
"A long time ago last Saturday. I just did."
"Who told you that? Did someone tell you that at church?"
*exasperated* "No, Momma. I picked you to be my Momma and I picked Daddy to be my Daddy."
"Well, honey, that's sweet. Thank you for picking me. I think I probably picked you to be my daughter too."
"You made a good choice Momma."
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February 23, 2007 at 9:05 AM
*delurking
My mom always told me when I got mad at her or one of my siblings that I picked them out myself, so I must have loved them once upon a time. I still have a note from my sister from after a fight that says, "It makes you wonder what kind of friends we were if we chose to be sisters." It still makes me smile.
February 23, 2007 at 1:10 PM
"And a little child shall lead thee."