Conversations with My Kid

My Kid, at the time of these conversations, is a few months shy of three years old.

***

Scene: We're playing with toys. I have been assigned a wheeled horse; The Kid has a tiny green wheelbarrow.

My Kid: We have to make them talk.

Me: Okay. Hello, Wheelbarrow!

MK: Hello, Horse! We are different, because you have a face.

Me: That's very true, Wheelbarrow. Astute observation. Hey, if you don't have a face... how are you talking? Where does your sound come from?

MK: Oh, wheelbarrows talk through our wheels. You didn't know that?

Me: I didn't. You just taught me a little something about sentient wheelbarrows.

MK: Yes. I did.

***

Scene: I'm driving. My Kid is in the backseat, secured in a carseat. 

My Kid: I think Beth is your nickname.

Me: Really? What's my real name, then?

MK: YOU know.

Me: I thought it was Beth.

MK: No. Your real name is Mama.

Me (lump in throat): ...it's both.

MK: Your real name is Both?

***

Scene: We're eating dinner.

My Kid: Mama.

Me: Yeah?

MK: Sometimes I like seeing people. But sometimes I don't like to be where people are. I just want it to be quiet and just us.

Me: God, you really are my child.

MK: I know. Can we have some chocolate treat dessert?

Me: We sure can.

***

There will be flash fiction on Friday.

Love,
Both