Go inside, Mama

by Katie on February 13, 2015

Last week, Leyton and I finished an early supper, and were having a merry little time playing on her slide and playset and roaming around outdoors. She was having so much fun, practically running in circles, and wearing me clean out requesting I watch her up the slide steps and catch her at the bottom of the slide (Daddy hasn’t moved the playset off the concrete slab where he “temporarily” set it up, so those things are required). It was a grand time.

Or so I thought…

Because pretty soon, after roughly 27 times down the slide, Brandon pulled in the driveway. Leyton did her usual, upon seeing him arrive at home. She shrieked with joy, “Daddy’s here, Mama! Daddy’s here! Daddy’s home!” I mean really, the girl might as well organize a main street parade every day when he comes home. That is how much enthusiasm and happiness bubbles up out of her that time of day. Y’all. All the man does is come home. From work. Not Africa. It’s a bit ridiculous, but endearing at the same time.

So anyway, Daddy came home. He walked over to where we were playing to welcome Leyton’s attack of a welcome home hug.

And you want to know what she did? After I fed her supper and helped her up the steps to the slide 27 times in a row?

She looked over at me from where she was embracing Brandon and said, “Go inside, Mama. Go inside. Gonna play Daddy, Mama. Go inside.”

Well. Nice knowing you too, Kid.

See you when you have to go to the bathroom. Or blow your nose. Because those are times they want mamas.


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