Why buy the cow if we can just borrow it?

My son Cooper will be turning three soon. He's always been a big talker. Most of his babyisms are gone. He no longer says we're going to fly on a hairplane. That one always made me laugh, and I'm having a hard time giving it up myself.

But there is one little talky quirk he still hangs on to.

He'd like to borrow things. Like, for instance, he'd like to borrow a cat.

"We should borrow a cat."

I think this means he wants to get a cat. Because he never mentions the return policy on borrowing things. And cats are his favorite, next to mommy of course. My husband is allergic so we can't have one, but I'm hopeful that someday my son has the distinct joy that is being owned, ignored, and altogether snubbed by a cat.

This morning as we were doing the preschool/daycare drop-off, we met a new little girl. She looked exactly like Cooper's slightly older friend Charlotte who has moved on to the "big school" for three-year-olds. Cooper waits patiently at the "little school" for two-year-olds until he graduates sometime soon.

As Cooper and I walked to his school building, we had this conversation:

C: She was a nice girl.

H: Yeah, she was. She's a sweet girl.

C: Yeah. Can we borrow a girl, mommy?

H: Ha ha ha, that's sweet honey, but I don't think so. Do you mean can we get a girl?

C: Yeah, can we get a girl? Like you? You're a girl.

H: I sure am. That's sweet, Coopie, but no, I like my boys. We can't borrow a girl.

I swear to you, I do not talk about the lack of females in my household. I really don't! I think it was a fluke, one of those conversations that sound like they hold deep meaning, but really they don't.

Like most of the conversations I have. In life. Now I'm totally in one of those weird ironic iconic mental swirlygigs like that book "Don't Sweat the Small Stuff and It's All Small Stuff." I've gotta go to bed.