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