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We go outside, on the way to the store. Bailey, who claims to be allergic to the sun, naturally decides to complain–more for my benefit than the drive to voice any actual complaint, mind you. Giving each other shit is one of our favorite mother-daughter activities, after all. (There’s a reason why my friends laugh if I complain about her giving me shit, and respond with something like, “Geeeeeeee, I wonder where she got that, Dixie….”)

But I digress. We’ve just stepped outside.

“It’s so hot and bright out here!” she complains, basically to be a shit. “I have sensitve skin.” Her sensitive skin is also a running joke. She says no one can hit her, or look at her too hard, or expose her to direct sunlight, you know, since it harms her sensitive skin. I think her skin has even reacted to verbal stimulation, on occassion. It turns red. Just ask her. It’s very sensitive, you know.

“What? You say that like it’s a bad thing. Hot and bright is great–that’s just like me! Hot and bright! Hot and bright! Just like me: hot and bright.” I’m incredibly pleased with myself to have thought this up. Bailey winces, and I know by that I have a winner here.

“What? That is so not cool, Mom. You shouldn’t say that to me. That’s disgusting. Not cool at all.”

“Not cool. Hot and bright! Hot and bright! I like that. How can the day be bad, if it’s hot and bright, just like me?”

She groans. I laugh manically. “Hoooot and briiiiight. Hoooot and briiiight! Oh what a happy, happy day it is, so nice and hoooot and briiiight!” I enjoy making up nonsense songs just to make her groan and flinch. I’m not disappointed. “Your dad would agree with me. He’d say I’m hot and bright.”

“That doesn’t count,” she claims. “He has to say that. He’s married to you.”

“So what? That doesn’t make any difference. He doesn’t have to say that! Some married people would not say their spouse is hot and bright. It counts! And you say he’s so smart. You kids think your Dad is damn near a genuis. So if he thinks I’m hot and bright, it must be right then, huh? Hot and bright! Hot and bright.”

“That’s not the same thing. He has to say that. He wants to have sex with you.” I think she realized her mistake as soon as she’d said that.

“Well yeah! Of course he does. I’m hot and bright. Why wouldn’t he? But that has nothing to do with it. We do that because we like to.”

“I don’t want to hear about that! Aghhh!”

I laugh. Life’s pretty good, for those of us who are both hot and bright.