“As a matter of fact yes, and while there I had a nice conversation with J’s mom,” I replied to my doll, after she asked the all important question, “Did you do something different to your hair?” At first she barely acknowledged my reply, only slightly nodding as if uninterested, before she nonchalantly asked, “So what did you two talk about?”
“Gotcha!” I thought to myself and then tried to reply without sending any red flags her way.
J’s mom, Alicia, happens to own the hair salon where I get my quarterly cut and color. She also happens to have a daughter, “J” who up until a little over a year ago, attended the same school and was in the same class with the doll. “We talked about where you and J are going to school next year…” I replied. “Oh yeah?” She asked, not looking up from her homework paperwork. “I told her you were going to be an Irish”. “Where is J going to attend?” She wondered. “Her mom wants her to be an arrow, but J would prefer to be an Irish too”. “I can totally see her there too!” She replied. “Yes, her mom is determined to send her to an all-girls school, though–which is causing some friction between them,” I added.
Again, the doll slightly nodded her head in reply.
“She also told me that J is driving her nuts fully acting the part of a teenager and butting heads with her. I told her thankfully, you and I seem to get along fairly well and so far, your teenage behavior hasn’t been too bad”. “In other words you lied to her,” She quickly replied. “No. No, not unless you know something I don’t…” I returned. “Mom, I must be a world class actress if you don’t notice the friction between us. I mean seriously, you annoy the heck out of me”.
Trying not to laugh I looked over at my daughter and said, “Oh that? Well, honey, the feeling there is mutual, I just choose to look at this differently. I mean I have a blog to complain about you in…” I said and then winked at her before adding, “Besides, if I didn’t annoy the HELL out of you, I wouldn’t be doing my job as your mom, now would I?”. Shrugging her shoulders, she said, “Perhaps.”
“Oh, and doll? Every morning when your alarm clock rings for two hours…and then you yell at me for being late? That’s annoying as hell to me..in addition to your utter lack of cleaning up after yourself and general disregard for your brother’s feelings and…” Holding her hand up toward my face, she said, “STOP! Got it mom…” in an annoyed tone.
“See…we get along great!” I said with a smile.
Without looking at me directly, she shrugged her shoulders in reply, before going back to homework and trying her best to ignore my presence in the room.