Mimi!

Long, long ago in another lifetime, I lived with my sweet, fat baby Quinn. Baby Quinn is the sweetest, fattest, cutest thing to ever walk the face of the earth, just like my other nieces and nephews. You may think your kids or nieces/nephews, brothers/sisters or cousins are the cutest, but you're wrong.

Very wrong.

Quinny Joe was at that special age where you can tell him to say things and he will attempt to say them, if he feels like it.

And while most often he referred to me as "mama" or "daddy" there were a few rare, blessed occasions where he tried to say Kimmy.

It came out more like Mimi.

And I loved him all the more for it.

Most mornings after breakfast I toss Baby I one of his beloved rice cakes and put him behind the gate in the playroom so I can clean. He has J for company for about an hour and then J leaves for camp.

After that I have to wrap it up because Baby I is abusive toward the dog, who still insists on being in the playroom.

But today Willie was treated with Frontline and so he's not allowed in the playroom. He has to dry. Poor pup. And poor Baby I.

It turns out that is the only form of entertainment that holds I's attention. After ten minutes of trying to reach through the gate to yank on the dog's tail he started calling me.

"Mommy!"

At first I pretended I couldn't hear him. He went back into the playroom, turned on the TV, pressed sixteen other buttons until the TV was so messed up I don't know if we'll ever get it back, and then returned to the gate.

"Mommy!"

This time I yelled back.

"Hold on!"

He padded through the playroom, located the remnants of his rice cake, had a drink.

"Mommy!"

"I'm coming, I! I'm coming in just a minute!"

He emptied the contents of a drawer (pronounced 'draw' in this state, like that last syllable doesn't exist) of toys onto the floor.

"Mommy!" His screeching was getting louder, and I was nearly done mopping and just wanted him to calm down until I got there. In my frustration I called,

"I'M NOT MOMMY!"

He stopped yelling. He thought for a minute. Then he looked for me to see if I was looking at him and when I was he smiled real big.

"Mimi!" He yelled.

"I AM MIMI!" I squealed in a voice so high pitched only Willie could hear it.

"Mimi!"

While I was super excited about being recognized as Mimi, it didn't change the fact that I was SO CLOSE to being done mopping. I maintained cheering him on from the other room.

After we read stories and played for a bit we went upstairs to dust. Well, I went to dust. Baby I went to do whatever it is he does besides drool in his playpen. He played happily while I dusted the room the playpen is in but when I left the room to get better cell reception he froze and watched me go.

"Mimi!"

I was so happy.