While making 120 hamantaschen- Yes, you heard that right. One hundred twenty. Don’t ask why- I have no idea. But they are good!!!! Of course, I'm not eating them. Or letting my kids eat them, because they are not healthy. But I bake them.
So, where was I? Oh yes, while making 120 hamantaschen, I was privileged enough to have the following conversation:
Naomi: Mom, you are the best hamantaschen maker.
Me: You are right, Naomi. I am the best hamantaschen maker.
Naomi: Mom, when you die, can I be the best hamantaschen maker?
Me: Knock yourself out, Naomi.
WTF? Who asks questions like that?
Naomi: Mom, when you die, can I have your cell phone?
Me: No, Naomi. When I die, I want to be buried with my phone so I can call you from the grave.
Probably not the most appropriate thing to say to my five year old, but what can I say? I suck as a mom.
Naomi: MOM! You can’t do that when you are dead. But don’t worry. I’ll remember you anyway.