After being there a while, the birthday boy starts calling for his Momma from the back of the house. Because his Momma is eight and a half months pregnant, and because I am a great friend, I got up to see what he needed.
I found him on the toilet, feet dangling down….
Me: What do you need?
Him: I need a Momma.
Him: To wipe my bottom.
Me: I’m a Momma, I’ll do it.
That boy was off the toilet and had assumed the position in no time at all. It was then that I remember all things bathroom related with my child do not faze me one bit at all. However, show up to assist someone else’s child, and I was about to lose the birthday cake, ice cream, and punch!
I helped him as fast as I could and was on my way out.
Him: Missamanda!!!! (yes, he runs it all together as if this is actually my name)
Him: Turn the water on so I can wash my hands!
Kid, I am trying to get out of Dodge as it stinks in here!! No, I did not actually yell this at him, but it was certainly running through my head. And, why must he be so short that even when standing on a stool he cannot turn the water on?!?!
A little while later, the best friend and I left to go and pick up dinner. When we returned, the husband to the best friend informs me that the birthday boy started yelling my name when we were gone. He went back there to see what the birthday boy needed.
He was sitting on the toilet again and needed yet another wipe.
What are they feeding this kid?!?
How had I become the official bottom wiper to the birthday boy?
He best be glad he is a cutie…and that he sings to me. I love him and will wipe his bottom as long as he needs me to….as long as he continues to sing to me.
Happy Birthday cutie pie and Missamanda is so proud of you and the big boy underwear!!!