Turkey Tale

So… my mom pulls out two turkey breasts from the oven.  Someone asks where she got that from, since my brother just finished carving (or hacking) the turkey.  She said she cut off the breasts from the turkey before cooking it. She joked that she performed a mastectomy on the turkey. 

I didn’t laugh.  Rather, I was perplexed. It seemed like an odd thing to do. No wonder my brother appeared to struggle with the turkey.  Poor thing. My mom sabotaged him.

Later, I overheard my brother asking my mom where she got all that extra turkey.  He was probably confused, too.  I tried to help him out and piped up. “Mom cut it off the turkey before she baked it!”

My mom clutched at her belly, doubled over. I watched her in utter confusion. Finally, she gasped out, “I was joking! I bought extra turkey breasts.”

Omg. Of course you don’t cut off the breasts before cooking a turkey. I felt as stupid as the girl who thought they cooked a pregnant turkey.

You know you are a parent when….

1. Your baby coughs in your mouth and you barely bat an eye.

2. People stare at your chest until you realize it’s not admiration, but disgust toward the baby snot smeared all over it.

3. You are eating cookies with your kids and need to interrogate them. “Who licked a cookie and put it back?” Everyone feigns innocence while your tongue screams out that it was soggy.

4. You frantically roll the windows down while gasping, “Who did it? Who did it?!”

5. To be continued. (You understand being constantly interrupted)

6. You know how to butt block the oven to keep the kids from getting burnt as they run past.

7. One look at your baby’s face is all it takes to know they are pooping in their diaper or pull up.

8. You can sing “Let it Go” with great enthusiasm.

9. You claim your phone battery died so you don’t have to play that song one more time.

10. Sometimes you just eat the rest of your kids plates instead of bothering to make your own.

Pointing the Finger

Tiny voices roared. I quickly flushed, washed my hands and ran into the room. “What’s going on?” (Because nothing is ever peaceful when a mom pees alone in the bathroom).

Jessica told on her cousins calmly. “They’re arguing.”

I looked at Sally and Sarah. “Why are you arguing?”

Sarah explained, “Jessica is pulling my head backwards, and Sally yelled at her to stop.”

My face crunched up in confusion. “Jessica, why did you say they were arguing when you were the one making trouble?”

She looked at me as if it was obvious. “Because they were arguing over me making trouble.”

The reasoning skills of children are beyond me. I cleared my head with a shake. Maybe I just shouldn’t use the bathroom anymore. It’s the one time of day every kid makes trouble or seeks me out to ask questions or tell on someone else.

Building Babies

My eyebrows furrowed slightly.  “Who built you?”

“No! Who builded me?!” She gestured to her arms.

I stopped trying to correct her and answered, “Mommy and Daddy made you. We built you.”

“How did you build me?” She looked up at me and waited.

“Well, Daddy planted a seed in Mommy. Mommy had an egg in my tummy and the seed mixed together and you grew in my belly! When you grew big enough, you came out of my belly and now you are growing even bigger!”

She covered her eyes. “I don’t want a seed in my tummy!”

“Oh, no honey.   You have to be a big girl like mommy to get a seed.”

“Did it hurt?”

I was slightly astounded at the speed and number of questions she fired at me. “Yes. It does hurt to grow and have a baby. That’s why you need to wait until you are big like Mommy.”

“I don’t want to hurt.”

“Oh, honey.” I pulled her into a hug. “You don’t have to have a baby!”

“Okay. Sing me a song.”

And just like that, my three year old was done hearing about where babies come from.