I picked Caleb up from school and as soon as he came into the house he kicked his shoes off and dumped his backpack in the entry way, then made a be-line into the bathroom. I prepare an after school snack for him and set it on the table. I begin putting a load of laundry into the washing machine and pick up a few toys on the stairs and head upstairs to see what son #2 is doing. After son#2 and I play a few rounds of dinosaur fights star wars guys I can still hear Caleb singing away downstairs on the pot. Not unusual.
Still upstairs, I jump onto the computer to check my email. After a few minutes, Caleb comes up to me without his pants on and we proceed to have the following conversation:
C: "Mom, I've been trying for a really long time, but my poop isn't coming out."
M: "Hmm, well.. sometimes it does takes a little bit longer." (Looking at his no pants) "Uh, why don't you go sit back on the toilet and I'll bring you a glass of water and a book?"
That suffices Caleb and so we initiate our plan of attack. Caleb is set up like he's on a long road trip and I let him know that if after a little while nothing happens that he could finish getting dressed and try again later. (wink)
I return upstairs and begin
M: "Hi kiddo. How ya doing? Any better?"
C: "Mom, I need to tell you something." (Not unusual. Caleb is one honest kid. He tells me everything... when he picks his nose, touches his bodily parts, steps on an ant... you name it.)
M: I set my paperwork aside and motion for him to come over. "Okay, bud what's up?"
C: "Mom, I got a knife."
M: "What!? What do you mean you got a knife?"
C: Silence.
M: "Caleb." (My mind is racing.. I'm thinking...what, was he trying to cut an apple by himself? Is he about to tell me that he's made a scratch on the counter top?) "Caleb, why did you get a knife out?"
C: "Mom, I got a knife out because I tried to get my poop out."
M: (Jaw drops to the floor at supersonic speed) "You did what!?" "Oh honey! We never use a knife to do that. (My brain is screaming, what in the world!? where would you come up with such an idea..CAAAAAAALEB!) But instead I say things like, "Are you okay? Have you cut yourself?"
C: "No, mom... I'm okay."
M: And then I think about where that germ infested instrument could be?.. "Caleb, where's the knife now?"
C: "Oh, I put it back."
M: (My jaw flies back to the ground and my body jumps up to match that supersonic speed again."What do you mean you put it back? Caleb, when you touched that knife to your bum bum where do you think those germs went?"
C: "On the knife?"
M: Yes! And when you put that knife back with the rest of the knives in the silverware drawer where do you think those germs went?"
C: The light bulb goes on and he slaps his hand over his mouth. "Oops."
I fly down the stairs at the same time he's yelling to me that he can't remember which knife it was..... Uh, no problem buddy.... I make a dive for every piece of silverware in the silverware drawer and dump them all into the dishwasher.
I can't wait to butter my roll at dinner time.
Oops, poops.
