Back talk

E in backseat 12-25-14

Hola, amigos.  It’s me.  Emma.  May I vent?  (Sorry.  Didn’t mean to shock you.  Let it settle in for a moment.)

The past few weeks, I’ve been spending a little too much time behind the wheel.  Okay, FINE: behind the person behind the wheel.   You know what I mean. (Don’t nickel and dime a girl when she’s venting.)  For example . . .

A few weeks ago, Mommy came to pick me up at preschool.  Usually I run to her and leap into her arms.  (I like Mommy to feel appreciated.  Right before I demand another snack.)  But this time I didn’t.  Instead, I clung to my teacher.  Lucy.  I LOVE Lucy.  (How come grownups smirk when I say this? And ask if Lucy lives with a guy named Ricky?  NO. SHE. DOES. NOT.  My teachers live at my school.  ALWAYS.  At night they just sit around the snack table in those little blue plastic chairs and wait for me to come back the next day.)  Anyhoo, that day, I decided that I was not leaving preschool.  Ever.  Because I was going to spend the rest of my life with my little arms wrapped around Lucy’s leg.  Lucy knelt down next to me and  said, “Spanish word, Spanish word, Spanish word, Spanish word.”  I nodded.  (NO, I can’t tell you what she said.  Even though I understand Spanish.  Don’t overthink it, people.)

Then Lucy walked me out to Mommy’s car.  Mommy and Jacob followed behind.  At a respectful distance.  When we got to Mommy’s car, Lucy went back into the school.  And I screamed and tried to run after her.  BECAUSE. I. WANTED. LUCY.  Mommy picked me up and said something irrelevant about not running through the parking lot.  And then sat with me in the front seat of her car.  While I screamed.  And demanded my paci.  Which Mommy did not have.  (LUCY. Always. Does.)  When I finally stopped screaming– because I could no longer remember why I was screaming– Mommy asked me if I wanted to surprise Daddy.  Okay, woman, I’m listening.  Whaddyagot?

Mommy: Our new rug was delivered to the carpet store.  We could go pick it up and put it in the living room.  And not say anything to Daddy and see how long it takes for him to notice it.  What do you think?

Jacob (from the back seat): LET’S GO!!!

Me (not at all influenced by peer pressure): I wanna go to carpet store, Mommy.

Mommy: Okay.  Great.  Let me buckle you into your car seat and then we can go.

Me: I wanna sit in Mommy lap and go to carpet store.

Mommy:  I can’t drive with you in my lap.  Sorry, Emmy.  Let me put you in your seat and then–

Me: NO!  Mommy lap.

Do I need to scream again woman?  Do I?  Because there’s a LOTTA LUNG in this little body.

Mommy: Hmmm.  Do you want to play with Mommy’s phone for a few minutes while I drive to the carpet store?

Me: Yes.

(Like taking an iPhone from a baby.)

So I did.  Mommy started driving.  And I played Angry Birds on her phone.  By which I mean, I started the Angry Birds app 15 times so that I could hear the theme song.   And then I started to feel a little funny.

Really not so good.

I put Mommy’s phone down.

Then I started to cry.

By this time we were on what Mommy calls a “highway”.  I know because anytime we get on a road with more than 10 cars on it, Jacob asks (in a sort of whiny voice that he has TOTALLY perfected), “Are we on a HIIIIGHWAY?!?”  Jacob does not like highways.

Mommy: Emma, what’s wrong?  What is . . . OH.

Mommy figured out what was wrong.

I threw up all over my jacket.  And car seat.  And baby doll.  And (far less important) her phone.   Sorry, Mommy.  Guess you’re rethinking some of your choices right about now, huh?

Mommy pulled off the highway.  (To be honest, I’m not sure why Jacob whines so much about being on the highway.  It’s SUPER EASY to get off when you want to.)

Mommy cleaned me up.  And asked me what I wanted to do.

Mommy: Emma, we’re almost there but if you want me to just take you home I will.

Me: CARPET STORE, MOMMY.

Mommy: Are you sure?

I had never been more sure of anything in my life.

Why were we going to the carpet store again?

Who the hell knew?  I’ve been stuck at home a lot this winter, people.  I. Wanted.  OUT.

We pressed on.  We hit traffic.  The trip took FOREVER.  Jacob whined.  A LOT.  Mommy says that this was when she learned that the rush hour near our new city starts at 3:45pm.  Anyhoo, we FINALLY made it to the carpet store.  And crammed the carpet into our car.  And got back on the highway.  AGAIN.  This time, to go home.  Funny thing.  All those cars that were on our side of the road going TO the carpet store were suddenly on our side of the road going HOME from the carpet store.  (Copy cats.)

Mommy tried to lighten the mood a bit by playing some music.  Which led to this.

Jacob (slightly indignant): But I *don’t* want more booty to hold at night!

Give it a moment, people.  You’ll get there.

IMG_2475

If only these wings really worked . . .

3 thoughts on “Back talk

  1. Lol Emma is so adorable she almost makes me wish we could have another one….I said almost! (As the hubster is reading over my shoulder….our girls are nearly 12 & 16, I couldn’t go through all that again) lol

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