When I Grow Up...

The Daughter took the day off yesterday.  We've had a hectic week. And she just needed to chill with her granny.  I was welcomed home with "raspberry moon rocks", which had the exact colour of red sambuca chunder and a taste to match.

So while I was slaving away in 90 degree heat, The Daughter did all kinds of groovy things with her gran.  She shopped up a storm (we now have geisha themed coffee mugs for our home).  She baked.  She accompanied The Incubator on her school run to fetch Enormous Son of Maid and other friends.

You see, The Daughter is much like her mother.  She likes to flirt.  And so, with a car full of boys, she was in her element.  The Incubator recounted the story of The Daughter telling all the boys that, when she grows up, she wants to be an astronaut.  They fly into space, you see, and they get to wear very cool clothes.

I tried to engage The Daughter in a similar conversation last night.

The Pant:  So, my darling, how was your day?

The Daughter:  It was fine thanks.  Now open your mouth, Mommy, and eat this delicious moon rock I baked you.

The Pant (chewing with long teeth, attempting to not throw up):  Mmmmmmm (gag) mmmmmm.  Delicious, my angel. You're a very clever baker girl.  So, tell me, what do you want to be when you grow up?

The Daughter:  A maid.

The Pant:  No, that's not what you told the boys in the car.

The Daughter:  How do you know, Mom?  You weren't even there.

The Pant:  Granny told me.  You said you wanted to be an asssssss.... (trying to coax the big word out of her.)

The Daughter:  (pausing to think)  An ass-hole?

Ah, the big dreams of children.