Apologies to those of you who are still suffering from a saccharin-overdose of sweetness from yesterday's post. It was, perhaps, uncalled for.
So, yesterday, shortly after I composed the nauseating entry, I strolled down the hallway here in my house, past the bathroom where my daughter was supposed to be peeing. It's generally pretty easy to see if she's peeing or not because she likes to keep the door wiiiiide open. I imagine she'll stop doing this sometime before puberty, but for now, anyone in our household gets a free watersports peepshow. (well, that combination of keywords should get me some undesirable hits)
Anyway, I'm walking by and I look to see if she's done yet and I see her standing next to the toilet, peering into it, with one hand beginning to reach into the bowl...
Me: HEY!
Daughter: (whipping around, wide-eyed) What?
Me: Don't! Don't ever reach into the toilet!
Daughter: (eyes now cast down) Ok.
Me: You should never put your hand, or your face, or any other non-butt body part near the toilet bowl. It's very dirty in there. Ok?
Daughter: (eyes still cast down) Ok.
Me: Thank you.
Daughter: But, I wasn't going to touch the wet part.
So, somehow, I failed to ask the important question, which is obviously, "What the hell WERE you going to touch in there?", but I still felt it was important to post this particular event. As much to present a more realistic moment in parenting as to erase yesterday's post o' sweetness.
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
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1 comment:
Vixen, if my blog could convince just one person to have a child, then I will have failed as a blogist. Not to say that my child ain't the bee's knees. Oh, she is the knees of those proverbial bees, assuming that said joints stick themselves into toilet bowls.
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