7:45am David was cruising around while Gabriel and I finished breakfast. (You know David is done eating when he purposefully throws his food off the tray one piece at a time.) David does like to share his snacks with the dog just like his big bro did at his age. But this morning I see him pull a paci out of his mouth and hold it out to the dog. The dog then licks the paci thoroughly and David thoughtfully considers his “clean” paci. For my part things go into slow motion as he begins to put the paci back into his mouth. Thankfully I made it to the paci before the paci made it to his mouth. I don’t care what Myth Busters says about a dog’s mouth being cleaner than a human’s mouth. That’s just gross.
8:22am Gabriel finally finishes eating his breakfast. Every morning this is a monumental feat because he prefers to display his “silliness”, catch up on the words he didn’t get to use while he was sleeping, and report every action of his little brother. My ears hurt and my mouth is on auto-pilot “Yes, Gabriel. Please eat, Gabriel”. While putting his dishes in the sink he sees the last remaining pot that was used to make last night’s dinner. I had filled it with water and soap to “soak” overnight. (That is code for “I was tired and wanted to get out of the kitchen”.)
Gabriel: “Mom.”
Me: “Yes, Gabriel.”
Gabriel: “I see dirty water in there.”
Me: “Yes. The pot is dirty and needs to be washed.”
Gabriel: “Well, I don’t like it.”
Me: <brief pause of consideration> “Do you want to wash it?”
Gabriel: “Ok.”
And that is how it came about that my 3 ½ year old was standing on his foot stool washing the grease and sauce coated pan. It lasted for all of about 30 seconds. Then,
Gabriel: “I’m done. It’s your turn, Mommy.”
It’s probably a good thing “his turn” didn’t last much longer. At his age it might trigger a call to CPS or something.
8:36 Gabriel and David play chase. I’m not sure who is chasing whom but they are both laughing and entertaining themselves so I quietly peek around the corner to watch.
8:47 I am speedily putting laundry away in both the boys rooms and then taking two minutes to brush my teeth and swipe on some deodorant. My precious “Mommy time” is interrupted with the suspicious sound of water sloshing in the dog’s bowl behind me. David has grabbed a freshly cleaned towel off the rack and was either cleaning it again or using it to scrub out the dog’s bowl. I’m not sure but the basket for whites that was gloriously empty just moments before has now begun to pile up again.
8:58 Gabriel comes into David’s room and while he is talking I can’t help but notice he is grabbing himself “down there”.
Me: “Gabriel, do you need to go potty?”
Gabriel: “No Mommy. I just have a bit.”
Me: “A bit?”
Pants and underwear are promptly dropped around his ankles and he is looking intently for the offending chigger bite.
Me: “Would you like some medicine on it?”
Gabriel: “Yes please. But I can’t find it. I think it’s hiding from me.”
It’s not even 9 o’clock in the morning and I am on the ground with anti-itch cream searching my son’s manhood for the hidden “bit”.
Anyone who says the life of a SAHM is idle has never been to my house.
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