“Mom, I need your help.” Sam leaned halfway out of the car, his belt still fastened, his body in almost no way restrained by it.

“What honey? Can’t you see Mommy is putting on her shoes?”  I hated the accidental third person. I wouldn’t have said, “Can’t you see Jessie is putting on her shoes”. And my kids haven’t referred to themselves in the third person in years, so I can’t claim I’m echoing them when I morph into the person I call “Mommy is”. She usually comes with a slice of “Can’t you see she’s” followed by any number of activities.… Read the rest