"My mom is crazy!"

Byran informed me last night that a few days ago Karissa sat down by a friend and said "Hi, my mom is crazy!" How nice.

I'm the first to admit that her proclamation isn't entirely false... or true. Sometimes I think I've got symptoms of early-onset Ahlzheimers. I can walk into a room, stand there for minutes and have no clue as to what my purpose was for going into that room in the first place. In fact, sometimes it gets so bad that I have to go back and re-trace my steps to see if I can figure it out. The scary thing is how common an occurance this is. Then, just ask my mom about all the "crazy" things I did growing up, and still do today. Maybe Karissa thinks I am crazy because I'm always misjudging the width of doorframes and whacking my head when I get in and out of the van. I have never claimed to be the brightest bulb on the strand, because I know that is crazy.

Of course, she doesn't have a thing to do with her mother's state of mind. Maybe it is a "pot calling the kettle black" thing. Who else likes to wear Ranch dressing in their hair- daily, takes big bites out of the butter cube in the fridge for a little mid-day snack, gives the cat a haircut, pulls apart a whole pad of Post-it-Notes one by one, or tears every single leaf off of my violet? Can 4 year olds still get away with this kind of stuff?

I would hope that the real reason that she thinks her mom is crazy is because Mom will make up goofy songs, wear dress-ups, and dances worse than Elaine Benice from Seinfeld to her Polly Pockets music. If not that, then I hope it is because she knows that her mom is just plain crazy about her!