My morning started by waking to the sound of Xen trying to climb up my bookcase over the dog crate.
"Mama? What is that statue? That is a really weird statue, mama."
To which I replied, "GET OUT OF MY ROOM AND GO WATCH TV."
"But I want to see the statue!" She protested.
"No. Get out." I insisted, wondering at what age children begin having permanent memories.
"Ugh!" She replied, and stomped out.
...
...
Not three minutes later, she stomped back in. "Mama. It's a penis, isn't it? It looks like a penis."
"THAT IS MY OWN PERSONAL PENIS STATUE NOW GET OUT OF MY ROOM!"
Damnit. This is going to be in her memory forever now, isn't it?
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