Deliver Me!

I know deep down I did this to myself. Since we met the girl child, we have been joking and teasing and irritating her. She’s not the only one though. We jack with each other all the live long day. It's all in good fun. She didn’t initially understand what was going on, but she’s been well-trained and now dishes it out like a champion.

That’s the part I am not such a fan of. Turns out, my own medicine tastes pretty bad.

The other day she said something and ended it with a slow, snarly (but good natured- if that’s possible), “Mmmmother.” I wasn’t thinking. I accidentally told her I didn’t like that.

Bad idea.

My response exposed my soft underbelly and upon it, the girl saw a button. I could practically see her extending her theoretical index finger. Oh yes. She would be pressing this newfound button. In fact, she would give that finger quite the work out.

Again, I have no one to blame but myself. I should have ignored it so it didn’t become a “thing.” Well, it’s now a full-fledged “thing.”

To add insult to injury (and why wouldn’t you want to do that?), she has taken to calling my husband “Daddy” in the sweetest, softest way she can muster. Then she glances at me and smiles. Oh brother.

Thinking I could outwit a 5 year old, I recently started actually requesting that she call me Mother. I mention how much I enjoy it.

Well, she’s not buying what I’m selling.

I hid the button she pressed and denied its existence, but she knows it’s there. Her index finger is still poised. Who am I kidding? It always will be.

I actually love it though. Every kid worth their salt exists to mess with their parents.

My poor mom. If I get what’s coming to me based on what my siblings and I did to her, I’m in a hot mess. In the early 1990’s, Pizza Hut’s slogan was Deliver Me. Remember that? Do you also remember how if you yelled, “DELIVER ME!” when you called to place your order they would give you a free medium one-topping pizza? No? Because that part is not true.

But mom didn’t know that…and she trusted her children. Never trust your children.

Our sweet mom yelled that slogan into the receiver with gusto and flare. “Hello?...DELIVER MEEEE!!” Oh man. Us kids were lit·er·al·ly on the floor rolling around in hysterics. If that had been a real promotion, she might have gotten 2 pizzas. She did that well.

Periodically, 20 years later, we still randomly yell those words to my mom. She just rolls her eyes and shakes her head. She probably has prayed that very same Pizza Hut slogan to the Lord begging to be delivered from her own offspring. Deep down though, she loves it.

Do I deserve hearing a playfully disdainful “Mother” tagged onto the end of every sentence the girl child utters? Absolutely.

Deep down, do I love it? 100%.