Wednesday, April 3, 2013
Mommy and Me
I call her that. Mommy. And guess what? My kids call me Mommy too. And they call their father Daddy. They don't think about it. It's the way is it in our family, the whole extended clan. Maybe it's cultural, as in how it is in Jamaica and in Antigua, where we originate. Only when their friends wrinkle their noses and tease them about the word "Mommy" or the word "Daddy" issuing from their lips do my children even notice it. I'm intrigued, though, that they simply laugh along and shrug with not a hint of embarrassment. I like that. So yeah. That's my Mommy and me in Jamaica, one short month ago. And yeah. I'm a big girl and my mommy is a slip of a girl. She's always been petite. Me? I take after her mom, and I always knew that she secretly loved my fat because it reminded her of Mama, which is what she called her mom. So maybe calling her Mommy is not cultural after all. Maybe it's generational. Maybe it's just us.