My Momma

"My Momma- she's my favorite person in the whole wide world. Who's yours? You're Momma?"

Last week, a little girl, fresh from the deep south was a new student in my classroom. Her southern drawl and spunky personality brought a new dynamic to our room.

When she asked me who my favorite person in the whole world was, she already had in mind who I better say it was. In fact, it was quite obvious that if my answer differed from that, her opinion of me would drastically take a turn for the worst.

I assured her that my momma was one of my favorite people. I was confident that in saying this, she would be satisfied.

However, she immediately questioned me. "Then why is it that there ain't no picture of her in your office?"

There was no proof in my pudding. She tilted her head, put her hands on her hips, and waited for me to explain this to her.

I managed some sort of explanation, but it didn't matter what I said. I had no picture of my momma. We moved on, but I knew that I had lost a little bit of my standing with her.

But, I wasn't lying when I said my momma was one of my favorites. And here's the proof:

• My momma, she's the one that I can shamelessly watch Lifetime movies with.
• My momma, she's the one that has always laughed at all my jokes, even when I went through a knock knock joke phase.
• My momma, she's the one that always listens to me...and Lord knows I can talk.
• My momma, she's the one who has always told me that I accomplish anything I set my mind to and then supported me through it...even when it meant I thought I had a future in beauty pageants (I was 11.)
• My momma, she's the one who has celebrated every moment in my life from half birthdays to graduations to passing math. There's always a party to be had.

See? My momma is one of my favorites.