“When you marry daddy, will you be my mom?”
“No, honey. Your mom is always your mom…but, you can call me whatever you want as long as it’s not a mean name.”
I glanced at the rearview mirror and noticed M seemed oblivious to the conversation between D and I.
“Was your mom a child abuser?”
“Well…When I was about your age, my mom did hurt me and said a lot of really mean things to me so, yes, my mom was abusive.”
“Does she abuse you now?”
“No, honey. I haven’t lived with her for a very long time. Since I was 16, actually.”
“It is. That’s the best thing about being an adult – you can stand up to people better.”
D stared out the window, seemingly deep in thought, while M continued to play his video game oblivious to the goings on around him.