Friday, December 03, 2010

Karma


Hello, Karma.  It’s very nice to meet you.  (Well, not really, but my grandma always told me that was the polite thing to say.)

Remember yesterday?  You know, the day when I forgot to inform anyone of Jordan’s sudden departure from pull-ups?  The day I sprung that little surprise on everyone he sees during the day?

Yeah.  Well, first of all, the good news!  Yay, good news!  Jordan was dry all day long.  He wore the same pair of big-boy undies all. day. long.  For those of you who aren’t parents yet—or for those of you who plan to keep your wits about you and maybe never become parents—this is a HUGE deal, just so you know.  For those of you who have struggled with the potty training thing before, you understand how this day is very much like getting your driver’s license or winning the lottery or even traveling to the North Pole to meet the real Santa Claus.  Seriously, this is huge.

So, that brings us to the part where we all do the “Yay for you!” potty dance and pass out piles of candy for a job well-done.  Heck, I wanted candy just for having to change all those diapers and pull-ups.

Now, listen closely, because this is where my good friend, Karma, steps into the picture.  And at first this explanation is going to sound a little weird, but stick with me.  The boys were standing at the toilet (yes, together and yes, standing because they are NOT BABIES) facing each other.  They face each other so that they can do this sort of potty stream-crossing sword fight, which I’m sure will turn out to be one of their most poignant childhood memories.

Anyway, during the swordfight, it seems that Jordan…um…how do you say…lost control of the trajectory, and his aim went a bit amiss.  I have boys, and this has happened before, and it’s usually not a big deal.  It is, however, a big deal when your brother is standing directly across from you and gets soaked in the misfire incident.

Jadon, now soaked in urine, demanded retribution, and I’m pretty sure he was trying to get me to toss Jordan in the basement for timeout.  When he saw that wasn’t going to happen, we simply demanded to know, “Why did Joe DO that?!”

And I would have answered him.  If I hadn’t been laughing my ass off at the sight of both of them, still pantless, chasing each other around the bathroom.

So I rounded up the boys, and we headed for the bathtub.  We were actually headed there anyway, but this little incident just placed bathing at the top of our priority list.  This is probably really bad, but they still like to fill the big tub in my room with bubbles and get in it together.  I know, I know, soon they will be too old for this, but for now, I am content in the fact that they will usually marinate in there for about an hour if I occasionally warm the water for them.

The great thing is that I can see the tub from my bed, so I can stand and fold clothes while I watch them—you know to make sure they are not drowning each other.  So I was ever-so-blissfully folding laundry when I hear Jadon demanding my attention.

“MOM!  MOOOOOOMMMMM!!”

“What, Jadon?”

“Jordan pooped in the tub.”

So after going all day with dry pants and no accidents while with anyone else, the little man manages to pee on his brother and poop in the tub within the span of an hour.  That, my friends, is karma.

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