I giggled thinking she had read my nod to the Mayans and didn't get the gist of it--much like the thirty-two dozen of you all who texted and emailed me begging me to not quit blogging. (Thanks for making a girl feel special, y'all; but start reading the WHOLE POST!)
"No, baby girl," I coo'ed, "I'm not quitting blogging. It was just supposed to be funny."
Her little face lit up and her eyes widened. "Really?" she squealed, "So you didn't sell the van?"
"Umm," I began, clearly not understanding, "We did sell the van. I'm not quitting my blog. And I'm not sure I understand."
 |
| This kid is missing her minivan |
I shrugged my shoulders knowing that if I were to speak, it could and would be used against me in the court of the living room.
"What does this mean, Momma?" she hissed shrugging her shoulders, obviously mocking me. "Does it mean that you're okay being a liar?"
"I am not a liar," I argued back.
"Do you drive a minivan? OR are you driving an SUV and telling people you drive a minivan?" Defendants across the nation will clamor for her to take their cases in about fifteen years.
I sighed. "I used to drive a minivan. We sold the minivan because it was going to cost us too much money to maintain the minivan. Now I drive the SUV that we already owned. But, my vicious, I mean precious, daughter, I will always drive a minivan in my heart."
"Will you still blog?" she asked.
I nodded my head yes.
"Will you still blog about me?" she asked.
Still nodding I said, "As long as you keep acting like this."
She stuck out her little hand to shake mine and said, "Deal."
She'd have solved that fiscal cliff business before Thanksgiving.
