Mommy

I always thought, as I was growing up and waiting to be a mother, that I would be "Mama." It made the most sense; I'm Southern and that's what we call our mothers when we like them. And Nora accommodated me beautifully.

This morning all of that changed.

I was sitting downstairs at a quarter to six, sipping coffee and sleepily scrolling through my phone, when she started to stir. Like any reasonable person, I pretended I couldn't hear her and waited for her to fall asleep again. She wasn't supposed to be a awake for another hour and there was a chance she was just talking in her sleep. But that's when it happened - the end of my resolve. The secret key to Nora walking all over me for he rest of my life.

"Mommy?"

Boom.

How can something I never wanted to hear hold such power over me?