This weekend, Ashley and I snuggled together on the couch. Pretty soon, she looked up at me and said, "Mommy, your belly is bouncy."
Not having a clever response to that, I said "Huh." She then grabbed a plastic Little People figurine and pretended to make him jump up and down on my belly. Like it was a trampoline.
"Mommy, your belly is really bouncy."
The Little Person bounced harder and higher.
"Mommy, does that hurt?"
I thought about it.
"Well, physically, no. Psychologically? Little bit."
She ignored me and yanked up her shirt. "Mommy, is my belly bouncy?"
I said "No, your belly is definitely not bouncy." And feeling a little defensive, I added "And mine is only bouncy because I had babies."
Her face lit up. "Will I have a bouncy belly some day when I'm a mommy??"
I said "Maybe. I only got the bouncy belly after I had twins, though."
She sat back and smiled. "Mommy, I'm going to have twins when I'm a mommy so I can have a bouncy belly, too."
And here I was, thinking I needed to start doing pilates or the shredder or crunching or whatever the cool kids are doing these days. Instead, I'm bringing bouncy back, baby.
Pass me another brownie, please.