Mom to the Rescue

I have a new title; one that won’t mean a whole lot to you. But to my daughter, it means everything.

Allow me to introduce myself: I am Super-Mom, Scrump Remover Extraordinaire.

What is a scrump? Well, that depends on who you ask.

According to UrbanDictionary.com, a “scrump” is anything from the act of stealing apples, to having sex. (Yes, sex. Apparently “screw” and “hump” joined forces to become “scrump.” What a sad, sad commentary on the decay of our English language. But I digress...). The Free Online Dictionary, says that a “scrump” is something withered or shriveled or dried up.

However to my almost-three-year-old daughter, the word “scrump” has come to define anything she sees that she doesn’t like. Whether it be a fleck of lint on her shirt or pants, a microscopic thread from fabric between her toes, or a teeny, tiny piece of vegetable or even finely diced herbs in her pasta or rice, when Abbie whines that there’s a “scrump”, Super-Mom flies to the rescue.

Scrump removing is very serious business in our house, or at least it is to our daughter. While my husband and I do our best to stifle our laughter at each battle Super-Mommy has with the latest scrump, to Abbie each encounter with a scrump is monumental, cataclysmic, and dramatic. After all, she’s two-going-on-three, and while she may not understand the U.S. debt crisis, tumbling stock markets or famines in Africa, she does understand scrumps. She also knows that her mommy is always there.

This is my extraordinary calling. 

Now what did I do with my cape?

Image by The Doodle Girl