Somehow in his already brief life, I have become passe to Mr. Personality. Just being "mama" is no longer good enough.
I am constantly being told, "Talk Santa, Mama," which means I must lower my voice and heartily speak to him as old St. Nick. "Talk Winnie" of course is Winnie the Pooh. The list goes on and on. Today was a new one, "Talk rock, Mama, talk rock." So I had to impersonate the rock he was holding, having no idea what the hell a rock sounds like. I did my best to sound gravelly and as if I had spent the last couple of months wallowing in the dirt outside our patio. Sybil has nothing on me, let me tell you.
Deep down I get a little bit offended that I am not good enough, but the plus is that he is more than willing to do things for "others" that he will not normally do for me. For instance, if "Santa" wants him to get out of the tub, he is more than willing to comply.
I don't know if it is my fault for anthropomorphizing everything when he was younger. Everything had feelings and talked to him- oven mitts, stuffed animals, rattles. I was trying to be funny and spark his imagination. Now I am definitely reaping what I have sown.
If my persona as "mama" is already boring him to tears at two years old, what is he going to have me do when he is 12?