Lucky Mom

I thought she would be sick of me by now, but all I heard this afternoon was, "Mmooomm, when are you coming home?" We've had weeks worth of holiday parties and chores and shopping and a couple of road trips and lots and lots of togetherness, capped off yesterday with Movie Madness and a mother/daughter Sapporo/Costco/reading in bed extravaganza. But the kid still needs me. She likes me. She wants to hang out with me and the feeling's mutual. Shana has done everything by the book. She went through all the stages right on time, except for one. The annoying one. She skipped that one and I figure at age eighteen, we're in the clear. Maybe I've forgotten how hard it was when she was smaller. Or when she cried. Or when she misbehaved. There were some Time-Outs way back when, but even those went pretty well. Maybe it's because she's an only child, nobody else to get in trouble with, nobody else to gang up on me with. Maybe that's it. She won't have anybody to complain to when I'm old. When I'm annoying. Or maybe she'll still call me and ask me to come over. I hope so.