Overheard…

“Mommm.”

“MOOOoooommmm!”

“MOOOOOOOMMMMM!!!!”

The volume escalated with each cry. I was at the opposite end of the house. His brother met me in the hallway.

“Mom! He’s screaming for you!”

Feeling a little frantic, I start to run. “What? What? What is it??!”

As I reached the door of the family room, I can hear his voice coming from the powder room.

Calmly, now that I am nearby, he announces.

“I pooped.”

Big sigh.

“Okay. Great! Do you need help?”

“Yup. I can’t weach the toilet paper. Are you so proud of me?”

“Yes, I am so proud of you. Lean forward.”

I dutifully wipe the hiney before me, wondering if, someday, I will no longer have to wipe any more hineys. Given that I probably do a much better job of wiping said hiney than the hiney’s owner, I’m cool with it. Let’s start the day off with a clean butt, shall we?

“Thank you, Mommy. Does it smell dis-GUST-ing? That’s a lot of poop. Don’t throw wipeys in the toilet, Mommy. If you throw the wipeys in the toilet it will be bad. Then we will run out of wipeys. Just use toilet paper. Toilet paper is better. You can flush it. I love you, Mommy.” He hops down, and as I’m washing my hands at the sink, he waves into the bowl.

“Bye-bye, poop!”

And that’s pretty much just one five-minute moment in the life of a boy-mom.

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