“Mommy, you never go to work. Do you have a job?”

My 3 year old is completely serious as he stares at me while I am on my hands and knees cleaning under the kitchen island after the breakfast bonanza has ceased.  I have Cheerios stuck to my capri pants, I just put my left palm in syrup and the dog is licking blueberry waffle crumbs off my flip-flops.   In my mind I am trying to rationalize if this is one of those “pick your battle” moments - but my pride won’t let go of the offensiveness of the question.  Does he want to nit-pick the semantics of the word “work” or am I under the island right now for “fun”.

            I peer up at my first born as he stands there awaiting my answer.   It is 8am and I have already managed to shower & dress myself, bathe & dress two squirmy toddlers, serve breakfast, send my husband off to work, walk the dog (twice), water the plants, unload the dishwasher, start a load of laundry and answer 999,999 inane repetitive questions.  I was hoping to finish cleaning the kitchen before my coveted downtime (a.k.a. morning nap).   My options are clear:

1.      I could go the easy route and change the subject: “Who wants to see if Sesame Street is on yet?”

2.      I could go with the one word answer: “YES!”  - but that will only lead to 20 more questions, followed by a formal interview as to why I worked the job I did thus opting out of being a princess fulltime.  My children can’t understand how I turned this option down.

3.      Or I could tell him the truth.  That I had an amazing career, one that I truly loved.  How, at 26, Mommy was the youngest Account Executive and traveled on an airplane every week to meet with the heads of companies to present statistical data and analysis.  I could reminisce about the seven years I had a blast and was paid for it.  Then explain how one day Mommy decided that the most important job I could ever have is raising my two boys, thus tying up my story with a neat little bow.

As I start to open my mouth, my 2 year races past us yelling “TAG, Connor!”  Just as quickly as Pandora’s Box of Toddler questions was opened, my eldest is bounding out of the kitchen in the direction of the anticipating squeals.

I make my way over to the sink to wash my hands when I am paged by my most beloved clients: “Mommy, can we learn how to ice-skate on a pond today?  I want to do a figure eight.”  I laugh at this one, “Not today guys, its August.”  Sorry, make that 1 million inane questions I have answered this morning on the nose. 

It’s not the easiest job ever, but it is the most rewarding.  Did I mention I now get paid in kisses, hugs, tickles & songs?  I wonder how big my Christmas bonus will be this year… 

The BEST part of my "job"...naptime!!!!