Outted By The Mouths of Babes

- By Schnockered Mom Jamie

Hi. My name is Jamie and I use alcohol to relax. I first recognized this to be the case about five years ago when my 2-year-old Celia outted me.

I stormed into the house after a long day of client wrangling, invoice chasing and general loathing of my fellow humans. I bypassed the chipper chatter in the kitchen between Celia and Maria and b-lined for the couch. Once prone I belted out a great sigh, closed my eyes and sank in to the cushions. A moment later the distinctive thump of Celia’s feet travelled across the dining room and she was at my side quietly assessing the situation. She lay one pudgy little palm on my arm and said, “you seet on the couch?” I had to giggle at her Mexican accent which I fully encouraged by replying, “Yes baby, mama needs a keess. I had a rough day.” She leaned in and pressed a delicious pucker on my lips and then moved away. Fortified by her kiss, I opened one eye to see what she was up to next. She took three steps toward the dining room pointing to the hutch. With empathy unmatched in her age group, she looked back at me and said, “Mama, you need Leeker?”