This evening while Mia and Will were at piano, Max and I went to the grocery store. He talked incessantly in the car the entire way there, of course (in his "party of one" mode, as Tom says.) At the store, he sat in the bottom front of the cart, near my feet, and talked up at me.
"Max, I can't think very well when you keep talking to me so much."
"OK, mom, I just have two things for you to buy -- one good, one bad. A small bottle of apple cider just for me and some colored Hershey's Kisses."
I ignored him because I was trying to find some vanilla extract, but I did hear him say this:
"Then I'm just going to start shouting 'yard-sale mom, yard-sale mom'."
"What does that mean?"
"You know, 'free mom, free mom'."
And he didn't mean "free mom from some shackles or a prison." He meant that he was going to give me away.
"Where did you hear something like that?" I asked him.
So I'm once again bewildered by this kid's mind. I didn't buy either the cider or the Kisses, and I clearly wasn't sent home with another family. But aren't I worth more than a yard-sale deal? I guess not when I’m up against a bag of colored Hershey’s Kisses.