Me: I like being your mommy.
Z: [rolling eyes to the side, as if to avoid such awkward, intimate talk, even though crikies, she's only 2, then quietly] I'm glad you are.
Me: ha ha ha! You are??
Z: Yeah. [whisper, whisper, whisper] I'm talkin' to myself.
Me: ha ha ha! Like Mommy does?
Z: Yeah. Where did I put my phone? Where did I put my phone?
So, within just a few lines of conversation, she covered embarassment over my expression of love and immitation of my weaknesses.