Salty calls me Da-doh. He knows he’s supposed to call me Mama. He knows how much I want him to call me Mama. He can call me Mama, but Salty doesn’t give anything up for free. It’s part of his master plan to get the upper hand on me.
Today as I was cooking, Salty was tugging at my skirt and calling, “Da-doh, Da-doh, Da-doh.”
“I can’t pick you up right now, Honey. I’m cooking.”
“Ma-ma. Mmaa-mmaa. Ma-ma!”
Naturally, I had to pick him up immediately and attempt to cut purple potatoes one-handed. He giggled at me and said,
Since I call him Peppers at least 3 times a day, I guess I have it coming.