Famous last words. I’m out of practice – two days without kids, and I’ve forgotten the “verboten” words. One of which is “maybe.”

But before I expound on the latest Chloe incident, a few words about the wedding weekend. My husband and I had a great time – a relaxing 48 hours among adults, good food and celebration. The most touching moment for me came when my friend, the bride, and her father had their dance. It moved me enormously, and I thought of my own father, and how much I still miss him, and how much I wish he was still alive to enjoy our beautiful Chloe and Sophie.

The girls had a wonderful time with their Grammy, of course. Nonstop activity – the Bronx Zoo, the Guggenheim Museum, picnics and playgrounds. They were happy to see us upon our return and we had a lovely reunion evening. That is, until Chloe started asking to go to Cold Stone Creamery for ice cream after dinner. There was no reason not to say no, the girls had their ice cream treats earlier in the day at Central Park. But instead of making it unequivocally clear that there’d be no ice cream after dinner, I responded “maybe” to her request.

Stupid. When we were almost done with dinner, she started in. “Can we get ice cream? Can we?” My husband replied no, and Chloe said, “But Mommy said ‘maybe!'” Big mistake. Even though I had made it clear that maybe did not mean yes, and could very well mean no, she was holding out for the former. And when I confirmed that I had changed my mind from maybe to no, the tears started to flow. “I hate your mind!” she exclaimed, careful not to indict.

In perhaps a sign of increasing maturity, she calmed down rather quickly, however. And the rest of the evening proceeded smoothly and happily (as evidenced by the silly face above). It’s good to be home with the girls; they make us whole.

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