Hookers

If you’re the mother of a human being between the age of 1-20 (or whatever age they wind up leaving home at), you can sympathize with the reality of not being able to use the bathroom in peace unless everyone is outside or asleep. They don’t do it to Dad. No, they leave him alone. But you’re fair game. and it’s a given that if you go into the bathroom, at least one person will suddenly have to go as well, or will need something from you so urgently that they will stand outside the door and speak to you through it until you respond, get out, or both. Especially if there are several of them. If the dog were allowed upstairs, I bet he would do it too.

A couple of days ago my four-year-old daughter needed hookers.

I’m in the bathroom. I hear my husband start laughing and say “Go ask Mommy bahahaha”. I wait for the inevitable disturbance.

Three.

Two.

One.

Knock knock knock.

“What?”

“Mom, I need your hookers.”

I must have heard wrong.

“What?”

(frustrated) “I need your HOOKERS. Your hookers.”

Nope. I heard right, but it makes no sense whatsoever.

“My what?”

Now she’s getting frustrated. You know how they get frustrated when they feel that they are being crystal clear and you’re just not getting it.

I hear her slump down on the floor by the door. She’s crying.

“YOUR HOOKERS! Daddy said to ask you for your hookers! I’m cleaning my room and I need hookers!!!”

At this point I can’t help it and am cracking up in the bathroom, which makes the poor child angrier and she cries harder. I can completely understand why The Husband sent her to me because this is just too funny. I can hear him giggling like a little girl as the whole episode unfolds.

I come out to a teary-eyed, frustrated child. I ask her to show me what she means–and hope that no one has hidden any hookers anywhere in the house.

She reappears with a hanger.

“HOOKER!”

Oh.

Hangers and hooks. I can see where the “hooker” came from. Honest mistake when you’re four.

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