The other day, as I was folding laundry on the couch, my daughter snuggled up to me, wrapped her little arms around me and told me that I’m her Best Mommy. We have this little thing together, she and I. I tell her she’s my Best Girl (an expression I can only use because she is my only girl) and she tells me I’m her Best Mommy. But I had a hard time focusing on what she was saying because her breath smelled so sweet and delicious. Literally. Sweet and delicious. Like something very familiar.
And then it dawned on me that her breath reeked of my favorite perfumed Victoria’s Secret body lotion.
So, like any parent, I proceeded to frantically run around my house searching room to room like a lunatic yelling “SHOW ME THE LOTION,” hoping for the best but expecting the worst. Mentally, I was already visualizing a giant bottle of lotion spilled all over our new couch or carpet in our newly renovated “no kids room.” (Yes, that is the official room’s name in our house. We have a kitchen, a family room, a living room and a no kids room.) Living room would be okay, I thought as I dodged a Lego city Jake left in the middle of the floor, because at least it’s hard wood. But alas, nothing. No sign of lotion.
So, grabbing my laundry basket full of freshly folded whites, I head up the stairs thinking her bedroom next because….
WHAMMO!!!!!!!!!!! Laundry flying…….back breaking…….seeing stars……lots……of…..stars…..
I found the lotion. And with her deliciously sweet breath, my Best Girl tells me,
“The stairs were really dry mama, so I lotioned them.”