The Possum Chronicles: Mommy’s Special Day


I have a four-year-old daughter. She is amazing in many ways: she is a singer and songwriter (true fact!), and stubborn, and a big fan of questioning authority, and hysterically funny. She likes to climb up and hang on with both arms and legs, so I call her Possum.

This morning, I asked her to put on her shoes and socks — which she is more than capable of doing, especially given the advent of velcro shoes for heaven’s sake! When I was a girl, we didn’t have any of this namby pamby velcro — we had to tie our shoes! with string! Uphill, both ways, in the snow!

Her favorite stalling technique right now (aside from “Mommy, I have to tell you sumping!” “What is it?” “Uhhhhmmm…”) is saying  “but I’m so sleeeeeepy…!”

“Hey, Possum, do you want to go play outside? ”

P. jumps up:  “Hooray! Hooray!”

“OK, go put your socks and shoes on” (these are readily available)

“No, but Mooooooooo-mmyyyyyyy… I’m so sleeeeeepy…!”

Mommy shoots her The Look (it’s my father’s Look, disapproval tinged with bemusement. Always worked on me…)

“Possum, you are more than capable,” (Yes, I speak to my children this way. Ridiculous. Then again, they have fantastic vocabularies…) “of putting on your socks and shoes, or I wouldn’t have asked you to do it.”

“But Moooooo-mmmmy…”

“Tell you what: when you are ready to go play outside, put on your shoes and socks and come get me.” I go back into my office. Which is also the living room. And the playroom. And the dog den. Feh.

“But, excuse me? Mommy? I have to tell you sumping… this is a very special day for you!”

“Really?! What day is it?”

“It’s ‘Mommy helps Possum’ day!”

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