We're all doomed...

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“JUST so you know, Mommy,” Mia announced tonight at dinner, completely out of the blue, “I am doomed.”

I know it’s been a while since I’ve posted an update on the kids, but just in case you’re wondering - -Mia is still only 4 years old.  (Going on 17, of course.)

Before I got the courage to ask my 4 year old why she was “doomed” and what on earth she was “doomed” for, she jumped in with a question,

“Mommy…” she pondered out loud, “What does DOOMED mean?”

Breathing a sigh of relief I explained it as something really bad that inevitably happens beyond your control.  She seemed quite spooked by the definition.

“Oh…” she said very seriously.  “I don’t think I’m doomed then. “

then a pause and (I swear to you) a mischevious look to the side,

“…But TOBY is.”

NO reaction.

(Phew)

“Toby?” Mia attempted to catch his attention as he quietly ate his supper, IGNORING her antics, “Toby!  I SAID you are DOOMED!”

He continued to ignore her, eating his pasta in mock-sister-immune-bliss.

“Oh, FINE” she said going back to her dinner, “Toby you’re JUST DOOMED.” She concluded for the last and final time.

I could tell by his sideways glance that the bait was hooked,

“No, Mia,” he said calmly between bites, “I am NOT DOOMED.”

“YES YOU ARE, TOBY YOU ARE DOOMED!”

It was as he was about to throw his milk at her that I decided it was time to step in.  I pointed out the extremely obvious fact that Mia was not using nice words, that (despite this) Toby should still not throw his milk at her and that he was, in fact, NOT doomed, despite his sister’s crazy prophecies.

After a few minute all was right again in our world.  We finished dinner and loaded into the car on our way to the end of school BBQ.   As we were driving along Toby realized that one of his fingernails was crooked.

(For real.  This kid notices EVERYTHING.  He takes life VERY seriously.)

“Mommy.” He said with equal parts concern and curiosity, “I think one of my fingernails is coming in crooked.”

“Uh, huh” was about all the sympathy I could muster...

“Well…I guess this just means I’m going to have crooked teeth AND crooked nails.” said a sad voice from the back.

Meanwhile, another much more cheerful voice joined in on the conversation,

“Well ALL of MY nails are STRAIGHT and all of MY teeth are straight.  So there you go, Toby.  YOU. ARE. DOOMED.”

I’m not going to sugar coat the rest of the drive to the school BBQ.  It wasn’t pleasant and doesn’t represent any of my more stellar parenting moments.  But we, as parents, must take triumph in the small things, if only for self-preservation.

Mia, as it turns out, has a great knack for vocabulary.  She MAY turn out to be a cruel, un-empathetic, callous individual who triumphs in art of torturing others, but she’s a quick learner of new words.  And we have to take our small victories where we can get them.  Otherwise -- you got it -- WE.  ARE. DOOMED.