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I was starting to prepare to go out in the big world with my mischievous two-year-old.  I was not aware I had a “going out” routine, but I now know I most certainly do.  Allie can sense when we’re going out better than a seeing-eye dog can lead the blind around a city.

“We go see Nana?!” she squeaked.

Allie does not have a normal speaking range.  She either squeaks like a marmoset, or she’s barking something out like a German dictator, or yelling about something like that poor girl from the Exorcist.


“No, no see Nana,” I told her.  We were going out to a friend’s house so I could have some adult talk and attempt not to lose my mind in this stay-at-home Mom business.  It’s a great gig, minus the crappy pay and no health benefits, but occasionally, I need to talk to people who are not trying to drive me bat-shit crazy.

“See Nana!” she insisted.

“NO!  No Nana!”  She loves her Nana.  In fact, any time we leave the confines of our house, she’s sure we’re going to see Nana.

I went downstairs to tidy up my train wreck of a room while I was waiting.

The phone rings.  I have no phone downstairs.  Only upstairs.  And Allie’s favorite hobby, currently, is talking on the phone.  There’s nothing greater, as far as she’s concerned.

Allie’s going to answer the phone, I thought to myself.  I have seen motorized boats move slower than the speed I flew up the stairs.  All the while chanting to myself, she’sgoingtoanswerthephoneshe’sgoingtoanswerthephoneshe’sgoingtoanswerthephone…

I got to the top of the stairs just about the time the answering machine picked up.  But, phew, Allie didn’t answer the phone.  And I could tell by the voice that it was another endless stream of political phone calls telling me how the opposing politician is descended from Lucifer himself.

I went to the doorway of the living room, where the politician was droning on and on, just to check on Allie.

Imagine my surprise.  Allie was outside on the back deck.  She had just stepped out.  The door was still open and she was turning around to close it behind herself.

She was just as surprised to see me.

It was about thirty degrees out.  That’s farenheit, not celsius.  She had on no pants, my flip-flops, her Minnie Mouse jacket and….was that my CAR KEYS in her hand?!

“Bye, Mama!” she called out.  “I go see Nana!”  In other words, you’re not moving fast enough lady, and I’m pretty tired of waiting for you.

“Um, ‘scuse me!!”  I yanked her back inside, and had myself a small aneurysm once she was safely in the house.

I think I’ll have her micro-chipped at my vet’s earliest convenience.