If u know me, then u know of my mom. And if u know of my mom, then u'll know that she wasn't exactly the best mother to me growing up. Needless to say I still love her and she makes me crack the fuck up sometimes even if it's at my own expense.
The other day me and the bf were comparing notes on our childhood. We both started walking before we turned 1. Both were potty-trained around 2. So then for kicks I decided to call my mom and ask when I started talking.
Why did she say in the surest voice ever: 8!
As in 3rd grade 8? As in I would've been riding the short bus and in a "special" class 8?
I vividly remember being the first in my kindergarten class to read a book OUTLOUD during show and tell. So I tell my mom, "MOM it couldn't have been 8 'cuz I was already talking in kinder," so she goes, "Oh yah ur right not 8, 6-8 months."
OK, so now I'm baby genius?
I shake my head and secretly apologize to God on behalf of my mom for being a bad liar and neglectful parent and just tell her, "Never mind!" aka in my head, "Just say it mom, u don't know."
Then she replies, "Ask Mommy-Nina."
Yes, I should asked my grandma to begin with.
Moral of the story? Moms, please be there for ur kids especially when they're growing up 'cuz u don't want them to be the only 8-year old that doesn't know how to talk and u def don't want them putting u on blast when they're old enough to blog.