It would be untrue to say the reason I didn’t respond to Chris’ IMs – 2:12 PM through 2:24 PM – was due to “the largest poop event I’ve had to deal with in my life.” The truth is, it’s more like the biggest event for about a year. It really did come abruptly and without warning. Nels called me in the bathroom and – well, he was trying to take care of things himself and failed. As I ran a bath and cleaned the bathroom he said, “I’m sorry, Mama. Thank you for cleaning up the mess,” but I told him the truth is, the whole thing was so out of nowhere and impressive I was amazed. I wasn’t even mad.
No, what surprises me is how easily it was for me to go from being used to dealing with someone else’s poop – on demand, at any time day or night – to being so, so blissfully happy and used to not having to do so at all after less than a year of reprieve. It seems one’s default state of humanity is to not have to clean up excrement on a regular basis. Interesting.
A few minutes later, post-bath, he wraps the towel around him and strolls into his sister’s room to select his wardrobe (his latest fad is dressing in sister-drag). After a selection from head to foot Sophie I tell him we have to head out to the van to go grab The Girl from school. Nels descends the steps and grabs at the back of his dress (actually his favorite rugby knit casual frock over a Mary Kate and Ashley full white skirt serving as a petticoat – he’s the prettiest girl at the ball) and I ask what’s up and he says in surprise, “My underwear!” Because of course, it isn’t his underwear, it’s his sister’s. And apparently a set of boy tackle – even a miniature set – disrupts the fit significantly.
Speaking of Nels’ garb, I found out I have only six days to get his little Christmas velveteen suit sewn up in time for the Christmas program. Time to get on it!