So,a friend of mine just told me that her refrigerator light burned out. Really? This really happens? I thought they lasted forever! I have NEVER replaced a bulb in the seven years that I have had the fridge.
This news made me giggle.
However, I must admit, having a husband and son who stare at the fridge several times a day (looking to see if anything has changed?) will probably speed up the process of burning out the bulb.
It’s only a matter of time…
So, Patrick is just about potty-trained. At home, he wears underwear. Away from home, he wears a pull-up (just in case…) I would say he’s 95% there. He’s peed (appropriately) at a friend’s kindergarten classroom, at preschool, and at other people’s houses. Yippee!!!!
However, there is a new twist on this whole potty training thing that I have found quite comical. When Patrick has to poop (for lack of a better word…have a bowel movement just sounds too grown up) he has decided that he needs a hug. Who knew?
“Poop!” he’ll yell. And Mom comes running. He sits down, looks me in the face and says, “Need hug!” which means that I must squat down in front of my beautiful son and hug him tightly as he does his business.
”C’mon poop, come out of my butt…” he’ll say in all of his super cuteness. Meanwhile, I’m about to lose feeling in my toes and/or asphyxiate myself on the smells rising up from the abyss. You see, when a mother must hug her son as he poops, her face is in prime position for first whiffs.
“Stinky! PU!” I’ll say. “Are you finished?” And nine times out of ten, he responds with, “No, still pooping….need hug!”
So, I make the ultimate sacrifice and…hold my breath. At least as long as I can without keeling over.
Ten minutes later, he’s (finally!) done.
If I’m lucky, he’ll be done for the day.
My last question to my post-pooping son, “Do you need Daddy to hug you when Mom’s not home?” He still has yet to answer this one.
This leads me to believe that once again, his father gets yet another get out of jail free card.
