Sometimes the best part of being a mom is thinking about all the fantastic ways you’ll be able to embarrass your children when they get older by retelling the tales of their youth. Now, I’ve been doing the Mommy-Thing for 6 years, and while my library of “face reddening” stories about my kids is only just now starting to take shape (with 3 Peas in my Pod aged 6, 4, and 1), today was a doosie of a story that I can’t wait to share with some fine young woman who has the honor of dating my son.
Potty training at my house has always been uneventful. When you are old enough to know that you have to go potty you are expected to go. I don’t get an M&M when I go, so neither do my kids. Because of this Pea #1 has been trained since she was 2.5, and Pea #2 has been trained since he was 2.75 🙂 (Pea #3 is only 15 months old, so I’m cutting her some slack.) There haven’t been too many accidents since then, and they are good about “Aim” and hand washing, so when the kids announce they “Have to go potty” I take it with a grain of salt trusting they can take care of business.
Because of this, I didn’t pay much attention to Pea #2 today, when he said he had to go potty. The kid drinks more juice and water than a Irishman drinks Jameson (relax, I’m Irish), so I’m not surprised his initials are commonly used in the plumbing community to describe a flush toilet
So, today, after returning home from a very nice afternoon out with my Peas I took Pea #3 up to her nap and then set up some painting for Peas #1&2. While the big kids entertained themselves with their craft I took the opportunity to enjoy some “Me Time”. Imagine my joy and good fortune when our own, lovable DD graced me with a phone call. During our intense conversation about which grease fighter was really the best Pea #2 ran into the house announcing that he had to “Go Potty!” Since I’ve already outlined my blase attitude about my children’s bathroom habits I continued to focus my attention on my dear DD, while Pea #2 streaked past me, shorts at half mast. It wasn’t until I heard the panicked voice of my 4-year-old telling me he was, “Pooping right now!!” that I ended my phone call with DD. Throwing my phone across the kitchen, I crossed the room in a single bound towards the little boy standing in the door of the powder room. He was clearly troubled as he stood, “Fig Leafed” in the doorway, shorts around his ankles and his big brown eyes searching my face for a reaction.
“What are you doing?”, I ask in my typical Mommy tone, which is similar to “Are you kidding me?!?”, since I this question pops up several times a day.
“I hadda go poop,” Pea #2 answers, still not sure if he’s out of the clear yet.
“Why aren’t you on the potty?”, again, same Mommy tone.
“Cause I already pooped on the floor.”
As I lift him up to place him on the throne, I reveal the “Kid” that failed to “get dropped off at the pool”.
“This is not okay, you know that, right?” I ask the Pea, whose feet are dangling, hands supporting his small 29lb frame, sitting on the potty.
He pathetically replies, “Uh-huh.”
“Next time you need to come in sooner, got it?”
“Uh-huh,” still pathetic.
As I’m getting him, and my linoleum, cleaned up he looks at me with pleading eyes, and says, “Please don’t tell Daddy.”
I gave him a hug and said, “Don’t worry, Bubby, I won’t tell Daddy,” and I didn’t. And I won’t, because there are somethings Daddies just don’t need to know.
Sometimes the best part of being a mom is collecting funny moments of your kids’ lives to share when they get older. Always the best part of being a mom is knowing your kids know that they can trust you.
Katie’s note: I love this girl so much, and I had to have her share this funny story with you. Go visit her at her Facebook Page, Fan her, and tell her how funny she is!