By Tracy M
What is it about when Mama leaves the house? My husband is a very capable and competent Daddy, and he does a great job with our kids- he is also fabulous about making sure I get time away when I need it, even though we have to laugh, because we both know what is going to happen when I walk out that door…
Tonight I had a dinner to attend at church, and while my being there wasn’t crucial, I really wanted to go and enjoy a meal with no one hanging on me or begging like a starving baby bird for a worm. DH assured me he was fine, even with the baby, (nine weeks now) and to just go enjoy myself. (Score points for Dad!)
As soon as I left, while DH was making a fine, nutritious dinner of popcorn and leftover pizza, our two-year old decided to have a Blow-Out. You know what I mean. Serious poo. But he didn’t tell dad right away, and since dad was busy keeping the microwave from burning the popcorn, dad didn’t notice right away.
And like a two-year old will do, occasionally, he slipped his little hands down the back of his shorts. Ah, what’s this? Oh, no! It’s yucky, I better go tell Dad! But first, because I am upset, I am going to cover my eyes with my poo-y hands!
From what I have been told, there was poo everywhere. DH does not like poo. After fighting to keep his composure, Dad managed to get poo-y boy in the tub, cleaned off, disinfected and in his jammies. I’m not clear on what happened to the popcorn, but our four-year old was eating the pizza while the poo incident was happening. Clean boy now rejoins the others at the table, but Dad is, amazingly, not hungry.
Soon enough it is time to brush teeth and get ready for bed. Four year old re-appears in the living room to show off his shiny teeth as he does each night, but two-year old is absent. DH goes to check and see what’s going on.
From what I have been told, there was toothpaste everywhere. Two-year old is standing on his stool at the sink, with a new tube of kid’s blue sparkly toothpaste, rubbing it in great blue circles all over his face.
Unamused Dad “What are you doing??”
Charmingly naive and sweet Poo-Boy chirps “My be pretty, like Mama does!”
I’m still trying to figure out when I have ever rubbed blue toothpaste on my face, but I think this was more of an “interpretive” modern-art rendition of Mama. But anyway…
The second mass-cleaning of my second child then took place. While this was going on, according to DH, the phone was ringing, other child(ren) were also needing/vying for his attention, and he was feeling a little stretched. (As I write this, I’m trying really hard not to smile. Really hard.)Both boys managed to make it to bed clean and in one piece, and by the time I got home a little bit later, they were asleep. DH was looking a little ragged as I asked how it went.
Evening commitments for me are maybe twice a month, but every time I leave in the evening, this is what happens. It’s like the kids have little spidey-senses that begin to tingle when I leave the driveway. They cue in on Dad’s weaknesses, the fact that he’s tired and doesn’t do thing exactly like Mama does, and attack like little fire-ants. Every single time.
What is it about kids that key in on this? While part of me thinks it’s just the tiniest bit funny, and feels just the littlest bit vindicated in how hard it is to take care of our family, the other part of me really relishes my time away. And if they make it too miserable for DH every time, even I may start to feel bad for poor ol’ Dad…
(poo and toothpaste… *snerkle* he he he…)
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