"you sound like another lady"

Walking home from the creek around 5 pm, talking about the weekend. I tell him I have to be around animals. "But not the zoo, " I say.

"Like parrots?" he says, always on to me, more so than I am at times, which I feel mixed about.

"Yes! Parrots! Parrots!" Admittedly, I say this with the enthusiasm of one of our mom friends who is known for her enthusiasm and unrelenting support toward all little ones. Still, it is heartfelt. I DO want to see parrots again; why didn't I think of it? It's brilliant! "Parrots! Yes, Jude!"

"You sound like another lady," he says.

What do you mean?

I don't know. You sound like another lady. You don't sound like you.

Who? What lady?

"I don't know," he says, "just another lady," to which I laugh, remembering the time when he was four and I took him to the Delles and we stopped at a tourist shop where I tried on a cover-up that was pink and floral and rather short and when I came out of the bathroom wearing it he goes, "Wow. You look like a lady!"

But then my laugh. He says it sounds like another lady's laugh.

What lady?

"I don't know. Hey Mama. So this thing on MineCraft..."

So... will the real lady Mama please stand up? What is he saying, that I'm a phony? That the real Mama is less cheerful? What am I, Mama Grinch?

I suddenly picture myself at home in curlers in an old bathrobe, neither of which I own, moping.