Sometimes the conversations with my kids steer off in a direction I’d never considered.
I was rushing around, per usual, and Trixie (6) was leisurely eating a (pretty gross) mixture of about three different breakfast cereals.
(Her choice here, People! I was not forcing her to have little random bits of cereal dust from several boxes. At least not today).
Trixie: Dad said I’m your clone. What does that mean?
Me: Well, it means we’re almost exactly alike.
Me: We both like fancy things.
Me: We both like sparkly jewelry.
Me: We both like lip gloss.
Trixie: And we both loooooooove to eat!
Parenting is so repeatedly humbling.