So we’re at my in-laws for the holidays. They’ve got a big house, which will be nice in the future when my kids are older and less prone to hurting each other when out of ear shot.
Yesterday, Neil and I were in one of the bedrooms checking something on the computer when we heard a blood curdling scream from the other part of the house. I run out to the kitchen and see Grant curled into the fetal position on the floor. The following conversation ensued.
Me: Grant! Are you ok? What happened? What hurts?
Grant: POO POO! POO POO COMING MOMMY!
I frantically pick him up, trying to get him to run to the bathroom.
Me: can u walk? put your feet down?
Grant: POO POO! POO POO!
So I carry him to the bathroom, pull his pants down, and sit him on the potty.
Me: did we make it? are you ok now?
Grant: Yes, I’m ok. NOW GO AWAY MOMMY!
This the child that runs around the house playing light saber with his penis after he’s gone to the bathroom, and all of a sudden he’s to modest to go when I’m in sight. Whatever, it was probably better I not laugh my head off in front of him anyway.