I have an alter-ego. Her name is Ms. Moo. She is our son’s bathtime towel, a black and white hooded number I got at Target going on two years ago.
The other day, when my son knew he was being annoying, he asked, “What’s Ms. Moo saying?” It was like he wanted to give me permission to stop him from his negative spiral.
Then he’d ask it if he’d been super cooperative, to nudge me to comment on how pleasant it was that we ate a meal together in peace.
This lasted for only a few days, maybe because we don’t take baths around here all that often. But she came out again last night. I’ll be interested to know if he starts to turn again to her and invite the sort of super-ego commentary he’s not capable of and that part of him doesn’t want to hear from me. I don’t usually want to judge or make pronouncements. But it’s like he’s trying to take positions and reflect on his behavior such that he craves this input from a higher power. With udders
Now let’s not talk about how he’s also regressed to wanting to put his hand up my shirt again.
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