So, many children have imaginary friends, right? Well, my 4 year old son, Everett, has an imaginary Mom. According to him, she lives in Africa, is brown and lives too far away for me to call her. Everett's "Real-Mom-From-Africa" shows up, of course, at times when he disagrees with my horrible decision-making skills as a parent. When asked to eat his vegetables, for example, Real-Mom-From-Africa would never do this. She lets him eat chocolate instead (that bitch). Of course, I can never confront her, because she has no phone and lives too far away, remember?
One day, while picking up Everett from the daycare, I was happy to hear that he had made a painting for me.
It is depicted below:
When I asked Everett what this beautiful (I know, it could be used in a Maddox book) painting depicted, I had no idea what I was in for.
Everett: That's you Mommy (on the right)
Me: Wow, who's that Everett? (pointing to the person on the left)
Everett: That's my Real-Mom-From-Africa
Me: Ok, what's going on here?
Everett: Ummmm, you shot my Real-Mom-From-Africa with your poop gun, and now she's dead.
I was secretly ecstatic that I had finally annihilated the other woman with her smug "I'm so better than you" attitude. All this time, she was letting MY son do whatever he wanted, leaving me to be the mean one. She absolutely deserved to get obliterated with my nasty poop gun!! Yes, people, I remember that she isn't real ;)
Is it sad that I can't help but think that this is one of the sweetest gestures this child has ever done for me?