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Day 43 in captivity and the child called for me 6 times in 16 minutes. Finally I yelled, “There is another able-bodied adult in this house that can help you!”

And you know what he said?

“Oh, yeah.”

He forgot? He forgot his dad was here in this very house we’ve all been cooped up in together for elevety-hundred and eighty five days? I mean, surely their paths have crossed in that time. But nope. The child always asks for mama.

The child always snuggles with mama in the morning. He gets in her space and starts talking to her sleeping face, picking right up on a conversation they had yesterday. And when she doesn’t respond immediately, he shakes her. “Mama, time to get up. You have to get up now.” Daddy hears none of this.

The child always watches Fortnite videos on his iPad– REALLY LOUDLY– while pressed right up next to mama, who has been trying to watch the same 23-minute episode of Bargain Mansions for three days now.

The child always eats his breakfast in bed–his parent’s bed–on his mama’s side. Only on his mama’s side. The mama always goes to bed with pieces of strawberry cereal bars, pink hearts, and yellow moon marshmallows stuck to her thighs.

The child insists only mama knows how to make a Lunchable. Yes, a Lunchable. The thing that comes in a box already prepared. I admit, I do take the time to spread the sauce equally across the 3 tiny pitas and dispense exactly the same amount of yellow and white cheese on each, but what savage doesn’t?

The child always asks mama if he can have a piece of candy, even though there are 4 Airheads within his reach and let’s be honest– mama is still trying to watch Bargain Mansions and not really paying attention.

“Why do you always ask me for things?” I asked him one morning. “Why can’t dad help when you have a nightmare, or need help opening your La Croix, or saw something funny on YouTube, but can’t remember where in the 43-minute video it was so oops, guess we have to watch it from the beginning?”

“Because you’re my mama,” he said. It was so matter of fact, I was almost embarrassed having to ask.

I always thought we looked alike. Anyone else see it?

Today was Mother’s Day. Quinn told me I was going to get a million presents and they pretty much spent about a billion dollars making sure it would be the best Mother’s Day in the books. Today when the child called out for something he asked for, “Mama! Or…dad. Whoever.”

Today only, friends. (And yes, we are working on his independence, thank you.)

And when I came in with a Lunchable prepared the way he likes it, he said, “Oh. It’s you. It didn’t have to be you.”

“Oh,” I said in return. “But it does, my child. It so does.”

“Want to watch me play, Fortnite?” he asked, patting the bed next to him.

I didn’t. Not really at all. It was Mother’s Day and I wanted to go outside and read my book. Maybe have a nice glass of wine. But I didn’t. Of course I didn’t.

“Sure,” I said.

Because I’m the mama.

Love WHO? Who is this from???

Shelly Mazzanoble

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