There's no denying that she's a momma's girl. Alexis rarely travels more than three feet from my side, generally preferring to be physically attached to my left hip. It's just the way she is.

*******************************************************

We stood around the kitchen table, enjoying the company of family over Thanksgiving break. The conversation flipped from College Tales of Woe (courtesy of one of Mr. Husband's cousins) to knitting (courtesy of her mother) and back again.

As Alexis sat playing with her first Barbie doll, I pondered the relationship of the mother and daughter before me. They are the real-life Lorelei and Rory. For as long as I can remember, they have been close. Best friends, confidants, all the things that a mother and her daughter should be. It's a relationship worthy of a golden pedestal.

The conversation turned to the shortest person at the table. The Aunt looked at me and said, "Mine was real clingy like that at her age."

I paused for a moment, pondering. I swam in the words, the implied consequences enough to make me smile. There are much worse things than being told your kid acts like an amazing and mature young lady did at that age. If clingy now will lead to an open and supportive relationship later, BRING IT ON.

Realizing that I finally had someone who I could ask a vital-to-me question, I blurted, "When will I finally get to go to the bathroom by myself?"

"She didn't stop clinging like that until she was thirteen or so," the Aunt replied.

"Oh," I said. That wasn't exactly the sunshiney good news I was hoping for.

The group fell silent as I pondered how I will survive another ten years of having a human-turned-leech attached to my side. Alexis, having listened in on the conversation, turned to me and said, "Momma, you can go to the bathroom when we get home."

How kind of her.

Too bad she escorted me.