Humble Pie

When we eat dinner at home without Daddy the children sit up at the kitchen island. They love when we play 'Chef Mommy' on these nights--and they insist I use a special foreign chef voice. (I cannot identify what nationality it is, because it changes constantly--often midword.)

Tonight we were playing 'Chef Mommy' when R requested dessert as reward for his clean plate. I informed him that dessert was not on the menu tonight.

"Please..." he persisted.

"No, my sir, your Mommy informed me that you had already had enough sweet treats today." I retorted in Chef Mommy character.

"But you ARE my Mommy!"

This turned into a silly game where I insisted I was the Chef, not the Mommy. Through giggles the children took turns insisting I was, in fact, their Mommy.

"How do you know?" I teased.

"You have her hair," P shouted.

"And you laugh like our Mommy!" K added.

Just then I accidentally knocked over something on the counter.

R responded, "And you just did that--and our Mommy makes mistakes a lot."

Apparently, I did get some dessert...Humble Pie.