It never fails. Shorty has impeccable timing. I’m whacked out on fertility drugs and he’s pulling all his best stunts out. I know I’ll laugh about this someday but right now I need a drink, a massage, and a day to myself and none of it is coming anytime soon.
Yesterday, Shorty managed to get hold of the canister of Nesquik. How, you ask? Big has a habit of leaving things where Shorty can reach them. (Big, I’m begging you to break this habit now.) Big was in the shower and I was trying to check the inventory on Ikea’s website to see if they had the things we wanted in stock before driving all the way there. I thought Shorty was playing nicely with some of his toys in the living room. Somehow I missed the sounds of him walking to the kitchen and grabbing that canister. What I did hear was this …
“Oh no, we need the vacuum cleaner!”
Hello, mommy radar on emergency alert!
“Umm, Shorty? Why do we need the vacuum cleaner?” (As I walk quickly to the scene of the crime.)
And what do my eyes behold? Chocolate powder EVERYWHERE. Chocolate powder covering Shorty from head to toe. Chocolate powder in heaps on the CREAM carpet. Chocolate powder all over the toys. Chocolate powder in the living room, the foyer, and trailed into the family room and kitchen.
My first reaction was to start yelling. Can’t help it. I’m on Clomid and this is my CREAM carpet we’re talking about. But Shorty started to cry because mommy was angry and yelling. You see, he’s been exploring feelings lately and he’s been in tune to when Mommy and Daddy are angry or sad or happy. He doesn’t like angry and sad. All I can say is that he’s darn lucky he’s so cute. The sad, crying face stopped my yelling. Out came the nice, patient mommy. (God, I think I deserve some brownie points for that considering my current state of mind. Remember this when I come to those pearly gates of heaven.)
“Oh, Shorty. It’s okay. You didn’t mean to get chocolate all over the carpet. We’ll clean it up.” <hug, hug, kiss, kiss>
And just like Shorty said, “We need the vacuum!”
I pulled out the Dyson and starting cleaning the mess. About now Big made his appearance.
“Umm, everything alright down here? I thought I heard some yelling and crying.”
Me – “Oh, come look for yourself.”
Big – “What the hell happened down here?!”
The crying starts and Shorty says, “Shorty got chocolate ever-where.”
Big and I look at each other. We decide Big will finish cleaning the chocolate on the floor and I will calm down Shorty and get him cleaned up. Half hour later we’re out the door and on our way to Ikea. I’m happy to report the carpet is as good as new. Thank God!
Just another day in this insane life we call parenthood.