“Fine, If We Can Have One Like Her, Fine.”




This weekend was a super big slow down for me and the Janester. I had a migraine. The weather was freezing. We spent loads of time in pajamas, watched cartoons, snuggled, and I learned the important lesson of turkey bacon vs. real bacon. Real bacon is delicious and hearty and I could eat it every day. Turkey bacon is meat flavored paper.

But after a while cabin fever struck, and she informed me that if she got any closer to the fireplace she might, “burn her kitty cats off.” She’s been saying this a lot lately, and she’s never wearing or holding any kitty cat memorabilia. So I decided we were in need of some socialization a’la Target and a diner.

The crazy folks in Little Rock are already prepping for Christmas, with yards ablaze with lit up trees and businesses lined with twinkling candy canes. So basically by the time we made it to Target, and she’d soaked in all of this way-too-early-pre-Christmas-decor, Jane was in a foamed up “I want all the Christmas things forever and ever and it needs to be tomorrow” state of mind. Which made her excited. Which made her happy. Which always, always, makes her insanely social. We rolled around the store, Jane perched regally in her seat, and she basically went on a political campaign for Miss Congeniality.

“Hi! How are you?”

“I’m Jane, what’s your name?”

“Hi! I pee pee in the potty now and I don’t use too much toilet paper.”

“I have to be careful of the fire or I might burn my kitty cats off.”

I mean really, the kitty cats thing is here to stay.

So I shopped while she chatted up every person who made eye contact with her.

We turned down the vitamin isle, and she began chatting at someone. I was bent over trying to figure out the differences between off brand multi-vitamins and brand multi-vitamins (the whole real bacon vs. turkey bacon thing has made me super un-trustful now). When I looked up, she was talking to a very well dressed, well heeled man. And he’s scowling.

“Hi, I’m Jane. And it’s almost Christmas, and when Fayez comes we’re gonna put up our tree, and then in one month and 100 days (she’s a little shaky on the whole concept of time) Santa Clause is going to come down my chimney and he’ll have to be careful or he might burn his kitty cats.”

And this guy is just looking at her, his arms crossed over a coat that no doubt cost more than my entire wardrobe. He’s staring at her like she’s a really strange bug, with this frown crease between his eyebrows. My hackles start to raise, because the one thing I don’t like is anybody, anywhere, at any time, giving my baby the stink eye.

For example, the old lady who lives in the apartment underneath us doesn’t like Jane, complains about her to management, and one day I went downstairs to talk with her. I was prepared to be nice and civil, even when the woman ranted about how children shouldn’t be allowed to live in apartments, but then the old lady looked down at Jane and… rolled her eyes. See, I’m a pretty nice person. Actually, I’m too nice. I’ve sort of gotten run over a lot in my adult life. But when she rolled her eyes at my kid like she was annoying and repulsive, I sort of, maybe, a little bit, lost my shit. People gathered round. The old lady slammed her door in my face. And now when we pass each other she turns her entire head and doesn’t look at me or my kiddo. Which, frankly, is fine.

So needless to say, I wasn’t digging this irritated looking richy rich dude eyeballing Jane like she was a pile of poop left behind by aliens. A few seconds ticked by, and he stared at Jane, looked at me, looked back at Jane and then a woman came around the corner pushing a cart. He looks at the woman, who is obviously his wife or girlfriend, gives her the tiniest of smiles and says, “Fine, if we can have one like her, fine. We can discuss having a kid.”

The woman is completely flabbergasted, looking at Jane and me and obviously not understand anything that just took place. I take this opportunity to push my cart and my kitty cat loving kid quickly away, muttering, “Ya’ll have a good night.”

So there you have it. A real pre-Christmas miracle.

Jane managed to charm Scrooge into considering fatherhood.



  1. cheryl R says:

    My laugh of the day! Not sure why the lady in your building doesn’t like Jane, but she’s obviously one of the most interesting kids around – in blogland or real life 🙂


  2. Vanessa says:

    LOL! Since P and I are now talking about having kids, this ending really struck a cord with me. My phone just rang at my office and I assumed it was my husband b/c he’s the only person that ever calls me on my office phone. I was all giggly and it wasn’t him. I was super excited at the possibility of, “oh, there’s my own Scrooge calling now!” He’s been against having kids as long as we’ve been together. I’ve been in no hurry myself. But… this year my brain/body/soul has decided it’s babygate and we have got to get this shit going! Time’s a wastin’! 😀 VW


  3. Bridget says:

    She didn’t just get old and get cranky. She has been cranky her whole life. I work with old people and their families and there are reasons some people in nursing homes never get a visitor…


  4. Noel says:

    You have been a busy girl lately with all of your posts! I have to say this post made me day. I laughed out loud and can start making dinner for my family with a big smile on my face. Great writing Liz. Keep it up.


  5. Barbara says:

    Loved this story so much zillow read it out loud for my husband! You’re in for quite a Christmas and great memories….thoroughly and completely enjoy!


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