Mistaken Identity

My niece throwing us some serious shade.

The kids and I chatted over Skype with my nieces, Lil’ Jo and Baby MJ, this evening. I love that this technology exists, that we’re able to engage in a real-time conversation complete with sound and visuals.  It doesn’t replace real in-person connection, of course, but with a family like ours, with so many loved ones scattered in all directions, web chatting is such a blessing.

And this evening proved to be a treat.

We talked for almost an hour. Lil Jo was in the midst of her dinner, and we got to watch her chow down on some pretzels and ham. (All part of a balanced diet, I promise.) We talked about Halloween and the costumes we all plan to wear that day. She ended up taking her mother’s phone and walking us through her house, and we got to say hello to Uncle Greg, Aunt Jill, and our dog nephew Mack.

Somehow, though, the conversation changed tune and we ended up just singing songs and poems to each other.

Actually, we — Miss C, Lola, and I — sang to her while she danced and made requests. We even played some Beyonce to her, to get into the dance vibe, but she wanted none of that as seen in the photo above.

No Queen Bey.

Yes to our three-part “harmony.”

It was too funny … and really sweet.

And then?

Then she called me Nona.

Nona is my mother who just visited them and who also Skypes frequently.

And as pointed out many, many, many times over the past few decades, I’m my mother’s clone: always in appearance, occasionally by voice over the phone.

And now, apparently, a clone on Skype, too.

My mother and me at Thanksgiving 2013.

And poor Lil Jo was so confused.  I could hear my sister cackle in the background. Miss C and Lola thought it was hilarious. I felt both amused that I had unintentionally misled her the whole time and pleased I got it all on video.

When we corrected her, she just rubbed her nose and requested another song.

Love this girl. Love my family.



Even Superman needs a little help with his shoes every now and then.