After church this morning, the Fries requested to go to their favorite restaurant, GVD. I didn't really want to go, since I could feel trouble brewing in my joints (91% humidity and I don't get along), but neither did a Wendy's run appeal to me. I relented, and we drove to GVD.
The usual Sunday-afternoon bustle greeted us, and the teenage host went to find a table for us while we waited. And that's when it happened.
Medium leaned into me and looked up into my face. "When are you going to have a baby?"
Darn it, that question always pops up at unexpected times. I looked into my little girl's earnest face. This wasn't the time or place to discuss our infertility, or the reality of my hysterectomy a year and a half ago. I stroked my hand down her cheek, hoping I hid the huge lump of emotion I had to swallow, and gently held her chin. "I don't need to have a baby. I have you."
She beamed at me.
"You're my baby. You and your sisters." They weren't paying attention to the conversation, but still...
"When I grow up," Medium said thoughtfully, "I'm going to be a mommy just like you. I'm gonna find kids whose parents don't take good care of them, and I'll take care of them instead."
About then, the young host returned and led us to our table.
As we walked, Medium continued, "And I'm going to be the best mom ever, just like you."