"C'mon, Mom."

I got called out by my son today. Next Tuesday he will turn 35 months old.

After weeks of lost childcare due to snow and sickness, I was finally trying to finish preparing a mailing with just the last few loose ends to be tied up in my son's presence. As I addressed the remaining envelopes, the little dude kept inching closer to me. I was copying addresses from my laptop screen, and he wanted to be near both me and that glorious, glowing light hovering above the sticky-from-fingers (and all-enticing) keys. ("I like the arrow keys," he said, knowing they are what he can use to see images on Picasa).

I asked him to move away a little, to back up, because it was hard for me to write with him on me. Perched on my knees, I kept scooting just a little bit away from his toddler breath and paws. Standing next to me, his chin at my shoulders, he stepped in to fill each small space. I asked him not to, fully understanding that he wanted to be near this project that seemed so important to his mama, whom he wanted to believe thought he was all-important.

At first when I protested about his causing me a challenge, I got the most recent catch-all response: "Why?" But then, after a pause, when I said again, "Please. It's hard for me to write when you're so close to me," he replied, eyes peering into my soul, "No, it's not. C'mon, Mom."

Get a grip. You can't be serious. Oh, please. He's heard those implications in my husband's voice and in mine, and now he has made them his own, with our words and tone. "C'mon."

Though it was a annoying to have him hovering, he's right: it wasn't worth getting worked up over. I keep saying he's "almost three," but he's still technically a two-year-old. How much patience can I really expect out of someone so small? He'd already "helped" me close some envelopes, put paper in and out of the printer and was not wreaking any real havoc. He just wanted to be close to me. What could I really complain about? Come on, Mom.