Surprise was a big one for me. I remember childhood as a long series of totally unexpected events:
- Woah, that lady's crying.
- Why the hell is that old man wearing a tube in his nose?
- Huh, we're all going down to the basement of the school and there's a siren thing going off. Huh.
But this morning Odessa surprised me. I felt just about as surprised as a 34-year-old woman talking to her 3 year old could be.
We are seated across the table from one another at a restaurant, Odessa with a scrambled egg and two pieces of bacon in front of her. I'm reading the paper, looking up at her every two-ish minutes to say, "Dessa, eat a bite of your eggs." She's rolling around in the booth, distractedly mumbling something: "Mommy I don't want eggs eggs are yucky I want a treat a snowflake cookie and a candycane I want a gingerbread man baby...." And then I look up and say, "you have to finish everything on your plate before I even think about getting you a cookie."
And then she makes this weird face I've never seen her make, and whines, "Mommy, I can't eat this breakfast because it will make me get a fat belly."