where go my penny?

"Momma, where go my penny?"

I hear that about 263 times in a day. I never get tired of it.

Only penny sometimes sounds like pa-when-ie and penny refers to all coins.

"Momma, where go my penny?" The second request is louder, more forceful, he might even be standing on his tip-toes, giving me his Grandma Betty mad face.

He carries his penny around inside his fist, he'd prefer to have one in both but he has learned to settle for one.


I reply "I don't know Wu, go look for it?" Thinking inside, those stupid pennies. I find them everywhere; under the couch hanging with the dust bunnies; between the cracks of his high chair, glued onto something that I'm hoping is only ketchup; they have slipped under the rug in the kitchen, sure to be scratching nice, thick grooves into our hardwood floor; and oh yes, those stupid pennies are in the trash can because I can't stand to bend down and pick up one more penny that he has discarded.

Wyatt replies "Oh, OK", like what I have suggested was well, practical - 'go find one' only to have him return two seconds later "I don't see it. Momma, where go my penny?".

Ugg.

"Wu, (forgetting that I'm talking to a 2 year old) you have to be responsible for your 'toys', if you want a penny, go get one."

He rolls on the floor, whines at a decibel only dogs should be allowed to hear and I do what I do best, ignore him.

He soon appears to forget about the penny. I continue to do what I don't do best, clean.

I'm at the sink when he comes back.

"Momma, I've got gum."

What?

He swallows the gum and continues

"Momma, I've got my penny."

I turn around and it registers, that little bugger went downstairs, rummaged though my bag to find my wallet and pulled out a quarter. While he was there, I guess he figured he should nab a piece of gum too.

That little thief. Smart, but still a thief.