Mommy Robot

I wish I had a mommy robot.  Or a clone of myself.  Or both.  A few months ago, we were heading home from Nana’s house and were coming back into town and Mo asked me if I was broken down on the side of the road.  I started laughing and said, “No, we are still driving.”  

The following occurred between 5:30 and 6:30 p.m.

Mo:  “Mommy, are we broken down on the side of the road?”

Me:  “No, we are still driving.  We are okay.”

Mo:  “Are you sure mommy?  I could call a tow truck.”

In the rearview mirror, I see Mo pretend to dial a phone.

Mo: “Yes, mister, we need a tow truck.  We are in the sand.”

*silence*

Mo:  “We will be here. Goodbye.”

The kids continue talking amongst themselves.

All of a sudden, Mo yells, “Oh no!  The tow truck can’t get us out!”

Me:  “Huh?”

Mo:  “Mommy, the tow truck can’t get us out of the sand!  We will have to call the Mommy Robot!”

Me:  “The mommy robot?”

Mo:  “Yes.”

Mo pretends to dial the phone again.

Mo:  “Mommy Robot, we need help.  We are off on the side of the road stuck in the sand.”

*silence*

Mo:  “Okay, see you then.  Bring a big rope.  Goodbye.”

We drove a long a few more minutes and Mo yells, “There it is!  The Mommy Robot!  We are saved.”

Mo:  “Pull Mommy Robot!  Pull”

Mo:  “Mommy, aren’t you glad the Mommy Robot saved us from the sand?”

Me:  “Yes, baby.”

Mo:  “Maybe the Mommy Robot can come live with us.”

Me:  “Maybe so. ”

In my head, I am thinking:  I wonder if she cleans.

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