I do..

"Mama?  Do you remember when you married Dad?"
"Yes."
"How do you remember?"
"I just do.  It was a big day.  A big deal."
"Do you think Dad remembers?"
(insert adult punch-line here)  "I'm sure he does."
"What was I doing that day?"
"You weren't there.  You weren't born yet?"
(indignantly)  "Why didn't I get to go?"  (stomps off)

"I made this for you."

"It's you and Dad marrying."  (Clearly, Mom has been up all night based on her deep-sunken, completely dilated eyes.  Please note that Dad has also been in a recent fight as he is sporting a bloody nose.  I further offer that Mom is wearing a barely there slip-dress.  How chic!  Clearly no skirt was required that day.  Finally, shoe size has not been exaggerated for artistic effect on either party.  Sadly,....)

"That's beautiful Miss 4!  Look how happy we are!"

She scampers off and quietly works for another few minutes returning with the following:

"This is a better wedding.  See Little One and Miss 4 are there!" (I am clearly so overjoyed there is a balletic leap into my husband's mid-section,...or I am auditioning for the Matrix.  One of my children has succumbed to exhaustion, but happily, while the other stands by on one very, very long foot, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.  Clearly this is a happy day.  Veil, askew I gaze vapidly into the future, while my husband stares vacantly into space.  Actually, maybe this is a picture of parents with young children.   Dazed and glazed parents...child underfoot...sibling grinning mysteriously...Hmmmm.)

And before I can respond, she runs away and returns with the final episode of the trilogy:

"This is when we were jellyfish."   Gone is my jaunty leap, my fluttering veil and lithe figure.  Now I am a many-appendaged child-minder.  However, note that I am still happy.  I gaze lovingly at my tiny jellies.  I may be pulled in many directions, propelled by the ebb and flow of life around me, but it is okay.

"Do you like being my Jellyfish Mama?"

I do.  Unequivocally, I do.