"I can't take you seriously like this. It's uncanny."

I drummed my fingers on the handle of the shopping cart. 

"I mean nobody takes me seriously, I'm a knot thing."

"Yeah, but right now you're a toddler."

"I can't say I'm the biggest fan of the look either." I wiggled my pudgy little fingers and kicked my feet while Laura walked a short way to grab a can of something. 

I felt her arm brush my tail as she set it in the cart and she jumped in surprise. 

"The invisible tail is definitely not helping."

"Sorrryyyyyy." I adjusted in my seat and pulled it around to sit in my lap like a belt. 

"It's fine. What's next on our list?" 

I flicked back to the list on my phone. "A pound and a half of chicken, panko, aaaand eggs." 

"I don't remember putting those on there." 

"You didn't, I'm making homemade fried chicken tomorrow." I stretched as far as I could and just managed to snag a box of panko from the shelf as we passed. 

"Oh, fancy." She took it and placed it with the rest of the dry goods in the cart.

"Do you have food-safe gloves? I'll probably need them for the breading process." 

"Mhmm." She steered us to the deli section. "I didn't know you could cook."

I tried to act offended. "I can do anything if I put my mind to it."

"So you're experimenting with cooking and I'm to be your test audience?"

"I've cooked! I'll have you know some of my fondest childhood memories are in the kitchen with my grandmother."

"Oh, cool. My brothers were never interested in home-making. I guess I kinda assumed you weren't either."

"I wasn't at first. Or maybe I was. I dunno. My dad, uncle, and grandpa tried to have alternative activities for me, but I always ended up helping out with dinner and stuff. I guess I kinda took it for granted."

"That's cool. So have you always cooked and I just didn't know it?" She paused to talk to the deli employee for a moment and I craned to see where they were looking. I pointed out the raw chicken tenders and they raised an eyebrow but made no comment. 

"Anyways. Uh. I guess it's been a hot second since I've done any cooking. I usually just assist." 

"You realize this means I'm gonna start putting you to work, right?" She tried to make it sound like a bad thing for some reason, but I just shrugged.

"That was always allowed. I'd be happy to be your sous chef."

"Right on." She thanked the employee and  wheeled us toward the dairy section, handing me the wrapped-up chicken. 

"I think this is the most I've heard you talk about your childhood," she mused as we traversed the store.

"Probably. It's not like it's a secret or anything, I just don't have much to talk about. After my parents divorced, I moved around a bunch and didn't get to have many more days with grandma. We moved a lot and I think my main personality trait was being depressed."

"About the divorce?"

"Maybe? It must have been deeply internalized, because I distinctly remember being okay with the divorce itself. Of course puberty was about that time, too, and everyone gets depressed after that." 

Laura mumbled her agreement and grabbed a carton of eggs. As she handed them to me, she paused. She looked at me as if seeing me for the first time, but as quickly as the moment came, it passed.