Today I had lunch with my mother at a small local bakery.  We picked up our sandwiches, and then I went back to the counter to get a cup of coffee.  There was a line, so I had to wait for a few minutes.  During my absence, a little girl, perhaps three years old, wandered up to my mother, pointed at my sandwich, and said: “Who’s going to eat that?”

“My son will,” my mother said.

“Where is he?” the child asked.

My mother pointed me out to her.  “That’s him over there, at the counter.”

The child looked at her, wide-eyed with astonishment.  “But he’s a grown-up!” she said.

“Yes, he is,” my mother agreed.

“Why does he still need a mommy?” the child asked.

“You get to keep your mommy when you grow up,” my mother said.  “Your mommy never stops being your mommy, whether you need her or not.”

The child was much perturbed by this information, and regarded me suspiciously when I came back with my coffee, as though I were somehow working the system.