Arguing with a Brick Wall

Will got off the bus, buried his head in my chest and hugged me tightly. “My name is Michelle.” He greeted me.

Usually I ignore it, but today I corrected him. “I’m Mom.”

“My name is Michelle. My name is Michelle. My name is Michelle.” He said a little louder and faster.

“Mom,” I repeated as we walked, Will backwards and me forwards, hugging tightly.

“My name is Michelle.”

“Mom.”

“My name is Michelle.”

We repeated our lines all the way into the house.

Finally, once we were inside, he called me mom. But when I screamed in excitement; he went back to calling me Michelle.

I’m stuck in the Myth of Sisyphus. And we all know who the rock is.