Flashback Friday

I'm stealing the idea of Flashback Friday from my SIL, Kristen, who has a fantastic blog. On Fridays she writes about something, usually hysterical, from the past. So I'm adopting this ritual as my own, and here's the 1st installment. To celebrate the 13th anniversary of the day my sweet Ethan came into my life, this one takes us back to his toddler days.

Some years ago when my eldest was but a tot of 2, we were in that fun phase with him where the most entertaining thing you can do is get him to copy something you've said. Ethan has a sense of humor similar to his dad's, so if he thinks your laughing at the things he's saying, it just adds fuel to the fire. We spent countless hours giggling at him and teaching him to say things like "gimme five". Of course, in the language learning years we don't have much control over what they repeat, and we've had plenty of backfires. "Oh cwap!" in the middle of a church meeting comes to mind. And naturally not everything a toddler says comes out just the way they intend. For instance, there was a time when Ethan, watching out the front window, announced that the neighbors titties were in our yard. We knew he meant kitties, but come on, that's funny. And we've all met the toddler who can't quite pronounce the word "fork". So it was during this tender phase that Bryan decided to teach Ethan something new. "Who's yer daddy" was a popular cliche at the time and dearest husband thought it would be so funny to hear the little man say it. I wasn't quite as enthusiastic about this one but they were having such a good time I didn't think it necessary to squelch all the fun. I figured he'd forget about it soon enough anyway. As it turns out I grossly underestimated the length of a 2 year olds memory bank. Only he didn't remember the saying quite the same way, he had his own version. It all started at Safeway. I lovingly placed my handome boy in the seat of the shopping cart and began my journey down the first aisle. The store wasn't very crowded, so the excursion began innocently enough. I was so engrossed in the vast varieties of pickles in front of me, that I hardly noticed the old gentleman pushing his own cart toward me. Just as he passed, my sweet boy blurted out, "Who's my daddy!?" My head snapped away from the pickle jars as I starred at my child in disbelief. The old man looked at Ethan, then glared at me. In a pathetic effort to redeem my good name I said "You mean WHERE's my daddy." To which Ethan then repeated "Who's my daddy!" The old man shuffled off on his way, leaving me to stand there completely frazzled and embarrassed. I tried to calmly explain to Ethan, who didn't understand or care, that I didn't want him to repeat it. The fact that he got a reaction out of me was all he needed. The next lucky stranger who passed by got the same greeting, much to my dismay. This continued with each and every person we passed, up to and including the pubescent bag boy. Most of the shoppers had a sense of humor about it, but I had to wonder what they were thinking. All I knew was that I was completely and utterly horrified. I might just as well have had my name spray painted on the water tower. I don't recall the conversation I'm sure I had with Bryan when I saw him later, but he probably had very little sympathy and thought it was as funny as Ethan did.

Toilet Trophies

Ok, this post is not about what you think it is. We aren't celebrating any special...accomplishments. At least not yet. Our business was running a Groupon today, so I was on the phone with prospective customers for most of the day. At lunch time I was right in the middle of preparing a great PB&J for Mr. T when the phone rang yet again. A quick glance at the caller ID told me it was someone I'd been trying to connect with so I opted to drop the jelly and run to the office to grab the phone. Tyce was none too thrilled at my choice and made sure I knew it by standing outside my office door, (childproof doorknobs are very useful) to pound and scream at me. About halfway through my conversation I had the realization that it was suddenly very quiet. Then I heard the toilet flush. Hmm, Tyce isn't potty trained yet, so why would he be flushing? Maybe the better question is WHAT is he flushing? Another flush, now I'm bracing myself for a disaster. Visions of Hotwheels and Polly Pockets floating in the bowl begin to flood my imagination. Naturally the customer on the phone needs to tell me in great detail about her carpet/puppy misfortunes. Then she feels the need to explain, again in detail, where her home is located in relation to the Great Wall of China. Finally, we wrap up the sale and I'm able to politely disconnect myself from the telephone and run to the hallway. There stands Tyce, his arms are definitely wet from the elbows down. I'm immediately feeling sick to my stomach, as my older children cannot be bothered to flush the toilet on a regular basis. Please please please be clean water, I'm thinking to myself. Finally, the moment of truth as I peer cautiously into the bowl. Phew, water is clear, at least we're not talking about sewage here. And what is the object that required so much flushing? Shelby's soccer trophy. Thank goodness it was too big to actually go anywhere. The poor Polly Pockets would not have been so lucky. A change of clothes and a good arm scrubbing later, Tyce got a nice lecture about why we don't play in the toilet. Again.

Over Exposure

New family rule: No pulling mommy's dress up with you when she stands up in the middle of church to take you out because your being too noisy.

Usually praying in church is something that's done outloud, today I was praying to myself that nobody noticed me. During a moment that was supposed to be quietly reverent, Tyce decided to announce to not only me, but everyone around us, that he was NOT interested in eating the snack I had brought for him. In my effort to tame the untameable 2 year old, I was trying to offer him some yogurt, thinking he might sit quietly for a few minutes. After all, he can only make so much noise if his mouth is full right? Wrong. So so wrong. So to avoid the dirty looks from the people around us that might actually be trying to absorb some spirituality from the meeting, I wrapped my arm under his body and swooped him up. Making sure to also grab the very important blankie, as to not make more a scene than necessary, I stood to make my way out of the aisle. It was at that moment that I noticed that while I had Tyce in one arm, he had the bottom of my dress in his hand, which was now at my waist level. For a brief moment, everything under my dress was exposed from the waist down. I hope, (I really really hope) that nobody was looking at us in that moment. I fear however, that since we were causing a bit of a scene, that was probably not the case. I quickly sat back down, forcefully removed my dress from his clenched fist, and regained my composure. Then we stood to try the whole thing again. At least on the second attempt we were able to sneak out without further embarrassment. Oh well, it's not the first time I've unwittingly exposed myself, but that's a story for another day.