Mommy and Me.

I'm living with a juvenile delinquent.

I AM NOT talking about the AG. I am talking about Remi. We have been at Nonie and Poppie's house for a week now, and things are getting out of control.

She rides to school every morning with Poppie, to drop off Mallory. She rides in the front seat. With Poppie. And no carseat. As in a la' Brittany.

She returns from her "front seat ride of death" every morning with an 64oz. Icee that she has absolutely no desire to drink, but only torture me with. I am not allowed to drink it. Only clean it. Which I do. I clean Cherry Icee off of every thing in the house for the next 45 minutes.

She spends her afternoons sitting in someones lap - be it Nonie or Mallory or Uncle Donald or Granny or Brandon or Meridith or Aunt Melba - and will oftentimes ask for "Cuppy" which they race to fill, or "snack" which they not only go and get but offer to FEED TO HER. Which she eagerly accepts.

In the evenings she resides in Poppie's recliner to watch Tigger or "Yardgans" or "Thnow White" which he allows her to do while he sits in the hardback wooden chair over to the side and watches one of these three movies for the 80th time.

Finally, today, I had had enough. I felt it was best for Remi and momma to go off on their own.
Explore the world.
Get back in touch with each other.

No one to spoil her, coddle her or fulfill her every wish.

Just momma. Plain, ol', stick in the mud, momma.

I took her to the park and slid down the slides with her. I didn't help her climb the bars. I didn't fawn over her when she fell. I took her to McDonald's and I made her get apples instead of fries. Juice instead of straight-up Coca Cola. When she refused to eat her burger - she didn't get to play. And so she ate. For the first time in a week, she ate her food.

Ladies and gentlemen, MOMMA IS BACK IN TOWN.

Then I brought her home. And we played with her toys. And I made her share. And I made her be patient. And then I put her down for a nap. There was no whaling and gnashing of teeth. She smiled at me. Told me she loved me. And laid down for 3 1/2 hours.

Man, I'm good.

And when she woke up - my Remi was back. She had forgotten who her best friend was.
I just had to remind her.

Later tonight as we sat down for dinner she came to the table in her new nightgown. It looks like something Queen Elizabeth would wear to sleep in. (Except that it wasn't flannel and I imagine that she is pretty icy in ye ole' boudoir.) But it was pink and frilly and certainly fit for a princess. And I have to admit, as I watched her picking up her carrots and blowing on them with the daintiest of hands, and watched her brush her hair out of her face and looked at those blue eyes in that princess gown, well, I could see what all the fuss was about.

And although everyone who saw her in it fawned over her and fussed over her and fed her cake - LITERALLY FED HER CAKE, SHE DOESN'T HAVE TO LIFT A FINGER - who do you think it was she wanted to tuck her in? Kiss her goodnight? Show her boo-boo to for the millionth time? Or hear a "bwible stoy" from?

You guessed it.

Ladies and gentlemen, I'll be here all week.