Mothers always whisper to their babies how special, how beautiful, how brilliant they are, how there has never been another baby in the history of the world as perfect as they are. I certainly whispered all these same things to my babies. Chase took them with a grain of salt, like most babies do. I’m sure he thought “Aw. So cute. Mom’s in love.” Tish, on the other hand, believed every word I said. When Tish heard me whisper these things into her teeny ear, her reaction was: “ YES. Exactly as I suspected. It seems I am some sort of GODDESS. Fan.damn.TASTIC.” And no one has been able to convince her otherwise since.
I’d like to offer an example. Several months ago my preschoolers were doing a project involving mounds of glitter, or “sprinkles,” as Tish calls them. Glitter, as every preschool teacher knows, is absolutely essential and absolutely impossible to clean up. It sticks to everything. So after this particular project, I decided to shake all the excess glitter into the toilet. That seemed to work, so we finished cleaning up and called it a day.
Later that evening, Sister came over for dinner and she was in the middle of a story at the table. Tishy interrupted her and said the following:
“Scuse me. I have to tell you guys something important. Today, I was pooing, and sprinkles came out of my bottom.”
We all stared, quietly.
Tish looked around at us, one at a time, and realized we were lost.
So she clarified. She said, “YOU GUYS. I POO SPRINKLES.”
None of us had any damn idea what she was talking about. That night in bed I burst out laughing when I figured it out.
When I told Bubba and Tisha the story, they had these mugs made.
Monkees, my wish for you today is that you will regard yourself so highly that you too, will start believing that sprinkles come out of your bottom.
That is all.
Author of the New York Times Bestselling Memoir CARRY ON, WARRIOR
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