"Mama, what Pokemon are you?"
"Huh?" I said. What the heck was my seven-year-old son talking about? "Dude, last time I checked, I was human. I'm not a Pokemon!"
"But just tell me what Pokemon you are," he insisted.
"Okay. Peekachu." That's the only Pokemon I knew.
"Mom, you're not a Peekachu. Peekachus are loud."
"So what do you think I am?"
"Hmmm." He consulted his Nintendo DS for a list. He scrolled through it. "How about this one?"
It was a cute little mouse looking thing. "No," I said. "Too mousy."
"What about this one?"
It was a fat rabbit thing. "No. Too rabbity."
"What about this one?"
I looked at the gothic vampire thing. "Yeah. That's what I am. What is it?"
"Gothelle. She's a psychic type. Habitat unknown."
Psychic type? Check. I definitely have a sixth sense to know what's going on with my kids.
Habitat unknown. Yeah. I have no idea what kind of asylum I live in.
Plus she looks pretty creepy. I've been told I resemble something like that.
Perfect. My new name is Mama Gothelle.
That's really cute!
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