The other night we were dividing and conquering our parental/work duties. Brian took Jacob to Boy Scout Night at his school while I took Reba with me to my school's Back To School Night. Reba was a willing participant in my evening. She showed off her superior academics by reading for the principals and showing them how she knows her Spanish words. She's four so she (and we) think this is a big deal. We don't push her in any way to read or excel beyond her years, she is just that competitive and smart that she does. She put on a royal show for my bosses at Back To School.
As we were leaving for the evening with the last set of parents the mother commented on how much Reba looks like me. Yeah, yeah, yeah. We hear it all the time, must have heard it 20 times already that night. I said, "Yes, she's my Mini Me. You should see her brother, he's my husband's Mini Me." And without missing a beat, Reba says, "No he's not, he's his Mickey Me." Duh, Mom. What was I thinking?