Sunday, September 17, 2006

Near Misses

We had a near miss in the bathtub tonight. That is, during my daughter's bath, we were almost visited by a floater. The brown kind.

I caught her leaning to the side, grunting ever so slightly, and turning, fascinated, to watch bubbles eminate from her bum. Let's face it...we're all mesmerized by our own flatulence, never more so than underwater, so this is no surprise. But when the grunting turned a little more serious, I quickly encouraged her to get out and sit on the pot whilst I dried her off, whereupon she, in turn, pooped.

But before she pooped, she asked me for "pry-uh-see." Privacy, dig?

I removed myself from her Jack and Jill bathroom and rocked peacefully in her glider, while she continued, sounding ever so much like Monica Seles returning backhands on Centre Court. (You'd think she was passing russet potatoes.)

All was well until she tried to wipe herself. Another bath was in order, if you know what I mean. Seriously, she was three knuckles deep into the...stuff.

All of this, of course, while her father is miles away interviewing. Scratch that. Today, he's flown on an airplane, played golf, attended his godson's Scouts meeting, eaten a steak dinner, had the results of the Giants-Eagles game spoiled for him (by me) and is probably enjoying a cold beer right about now. Tomorrow he'll interview. Let's not feel too badly for him tonight.

I miss him. It's a little strange to have so much going on, events which will decide our future, and not be near each other to sort through it all. Yes, they do have phones in CT, but it's not the same as the heartfelt conversations one has in one's own bed with one's own significant other (where he can't get away!). Not to mention that when he returns (tomorrow night) my parents will be in town for a week to celebrate my daughter's birthday. It's probably better that so much is taking up my time and attention right now, or I could do some serious obsessing.


At 9:14 AM, Blogger Kathy McC said...

Oh, that's too funny! Nothing worse than a big brown shark in the bathtub...glad you caught it. Everytime my son farts in the tub, I force him out for a poo because if I don't, it's floater city.

Sorry for the mess...Aaron doesn't do a good job in the wiping department either.

Have fun with your parents and happy birthday to your little girl!

At 11:13 AM, Blogger DD said...

I don't mind the bath poops as much as knowing that EVERYTHING that was in the tub must go into the dishwasher and most of the time there's more toys than dishes.


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