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I need better responses.  There are conversations that are so random, I have no reply.  I feel like I’m missing out on really interesting interaction.  I need to come up with some replies that are just as random as her remarks.

“Paigey, why are you on the counter?” I call, as the glasses in the cabinet shake and clatter together, while she’s perched on the counter, defiant enough to insist on getting her own GLASS because she’s far too grown up for the plastic kid cups I mandate for anyone under 27.

“Getting a drink,” she yells back.  Really, Ma, I’m in the cabinet that holds the glasses, what in HEAVEN’S name do you THINK I’m doing up here?

“Can you please be careful?  Don’t break anything.”  I have learned I need to pick my battles.  Today, I will not force the cup issue.  We’re already dealing with dirty room issues, and respect issues.  Tomorrow, well, all bets may be off.

“Oh, I won’t break anything!  Trust me.  I know glass.  When glass is angry, glass shatters.  When I’m angry, well, I scream and yell.  When I’m really frustrated, I cry.”  She gives a shrug of her shoulders here, as if it’s just a fact of life.  I cry.  It happens.  The world continues spinning.  “Yeah, me and glass, we’re REAL familiar.”

Dear Glass,
Now that you’re apparently familiar with my kid, please don’t fall out of my cabinet and break.
Signed,
Exhausted Mother Who Doesn’t Want To Pick Up Glass Shards Today

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