[[A Mother and her Moppet are chatting. Mother is resting in a chaise chair, while Moppet is standing beside, sweetly, hands on the armrest.]]
Moppet: Mom, I found this old journal of yours in the attic. You don't seem very pleased to have had me.
Moppet: I'm referred to as 'that wailing she-demon' or 'Poopy McPoop-Maker' or 'Regretty Mistakovich'. Didn't you like me?
Mother: Honey, you were a baby! The only ones who like babies are folks who don't have to deal with them. Nobody really likes Poopy McPoop-Maker, but we can put up with babies. Because the point of life isn't to just do things we like. It's to do things that are meaningful.
Moppet: 'March 18: Trying to raise this child is the most meaningless task I have ever attempted.'
Mother: That's from when we were sure you were going to grow up to be the Antichrist.
{{header: mother knows best at WONDERMARK.COM}}
{{alt-text: there's still time!}}