Ni hao ma … huh?

Mare and Ren are each getting one activity this summer. Mare picked ballet right off. Ren did, too.

“I don’t think you really like ballet, Doodle,” I said.

“I DO!” she said.

“Really? — I think you like it because Sissy likes it. But I’m not sure you actually enjoy the class much. I think you like being big, like Sissy. And I cna’t blame you there, she’s great. But she’s not YOU. I want to know about you. What does Ren like?”

“Ballet.”

“How about gymnastics?”

“I like gymnastics.”

“Want to do that instead of ballet?”

“Is Sissy doing it?”

“No, she’s definitely doing ballet.”

“Then I want to do ballet.”

“You won’t be in the same class. She’ll be with the older girls.”

“Dat’s okay.”

“How about swimming lessons?”

“With Sissy??”

“ARG!!”

And then I am loading her into the Loser Cruiser outside the school. It’s getting warm, and I am not dressed appropriately and the baby is screaming and Ren won’t get in her freaking seat and then …

“LING!!” Ren sticks her head out the door of the Looser Cruiser and waves excitedly across the parking lot. “Ni hao ma shi shi Ling!!”

I stare at her for one long stupid moment.

“Dat’s my Chinese teacher,” she says. “Ling.”

“Ling,” I say.

“Yeah.”

“Chinese,” I say.

“Uh-huh.”

“What does … Ni hao muh …”

“No, no,” she shakes her head. “Not ‘muh,’ ‘MAH.’”

“What does it mean?”

“Hi.”

“Oh.” I look at her, watch her watch Ling pull her car out of the parking lot.

“Ren. Would you like Ling to visit you? At our house? Come and sit with you and play with you in Chinese?”

A bright smile – the best kind, the mega-wat Renny grin, and she hugs me.

“Can she visit Sissy, too?”

“No, baby. No. She’d be coming just for you. To give you Chinese lessons.”

A happy clap of her hands and another hug.

Momma’s little dork.

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