We traveled to a nearby town this weekend to attend my dear friend’s marriage party. Not a wedding, rather, a party to celebrate the previous day’s nuptials. It was perfect and we had a perfectly fabulous time (notwithstanding The Kidling losing her voice from all of the revelry. She whispered all day Sunday. It was painfully sad. And cute).
We were sitting at the Panera across from our hotel eating muffins and scones when Alice initiated this conversation in a scratchy whisper:
Alice: I wish something was better in my life.
The Mama: What?
Alice: I wish you two were better.
The Mama: Which two? Mom and Dad?
Alice: Yes. I wish you two were better and nicer.
Pardon me while I interrupt. You really should have seen the other diners’ bodies noticeably still as they stopped everything to hear what The Kidling would say next. Seriously. I would have laughed out loud had I not myself been experiencing that same phenomenon.
The Mama: (hiding my shock) Oh? How?
Alice: I wish you said “wookie” better. Everything else can stay the same.
Exhale. Thank goodness. I think I can manage a bit of work on my diction.