On demand

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I’m officially MOD.

Mom On Demand.

Like a DVR or cable system, it would be nice if I could digitally save myself to be called on later or available simultaneously at two rooms. For a reasonable fee (of course).

Lillian: (hollering from behind her closed bedroom door) Do you want to know why I’m in here?

Me: Okay, why? (I take the bait.)

Lillian: Because I’m angry at you. You’re not getting me my waffles!

Me: I said I would get your waffles ready after I completed lunches for Henry and Mary Claire. (Thinking: Um, forgive me for being concerned about someone else’s nourshment.)

Lillian: Yes! That’s just what I mean! I want my waffles now! (Excuse me, but did I give birth to Varuka Salt?)

The same day, she told me she no longer wanted me to cut her grapes in half. Sort of like this, “Do you think you could actually give me grapes without cutting them?” When I presented the bowl of grapes she looked at them and said, “Wait. Now I can’t see the pretty insides. Will you take them back and cut them?”

Without a word I took them back. (Silently repeating a choose-your-battles mantra.)

When I returned the bowl of freshly sliced fruit she declared. “No, I guess I want them whole.”

There is no glue for grapes. And if there was, I might have used it for myself, because I was coming unglued.

Truth is, I realize she doesn’t do that to get to me. She does it because she really did want to see the pretty insides. And she really did want to see the grapes whole. But she couldn’t decide which one she wanted more.

The life lesson: Think before you cut your grapes. Or your baby brother will get them, and you’ll get nothing.

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