The WP was rewarded with a popsicle after finishing her homework. She munched it quietly at the kitchen table while I folded laundry in the adjoining living room. I walked into the kitchen and regarded her sweet munching face, her little mouth stained a shade of blue that probably does not exist in nature. I smiled, seized by a moment of bittersweet pride. My baby. Growing up.
KMS: You're the world's most awesome kid. I love you.
Blank stare. Pause. Munch. Munch. Munch.
WP: There's this guy at school, in third grade. (Munch, munch.) And he has a driver's license.
KMS: I tend to doubt it.
WP: It's true. I know, because he showed it to me. It has a car on it.
KMS: Oh, well, in that case.
WP: (tossing her popsicle stick in the trash and walking away) You don't see him, because he gets to school earlier than I do.
Mom--you don't know!
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