So I’m in the shower this morning and The Baby is in his blue tub at the bottom of the shower. The Boy has run off with my I-Phone to God only knows where. The Boy suddenly reappears at the bathroom door without the phone.
TB: MomMomMom. Your phone is on the green couch.
K: Yeah, I would prefer to have my phone here.
The Baby opens the shower door because, God FORBID, he miss anything.
K: Shut the door, Nate.
TB: But it’s on the green couch.
K: Then I would like you to go down to the green couch and bring it back to this bathroom.
TB: (quite cheery) OK, Mom.
And runs down the hall. I need that phone back because when it locks, it only allows emergency calls. I need to know if someone thought we were having an emergency and now some form of emergency response unit is showing up. You know how the locals get fiesty about repeatedly showing up at your house for nothing.
I continue to wash my hair and as I close my eyes to rinse out the shampoo, I feel a cool, univited breeze on my body. I look down to find the shower door open and a very wet, very naked, very fat-assed Baby toddling precariously across the very slick bathroom floor. Because if you have been walking for all of 3 weeks, you should jump right to the Wet Tile portion of the show. The door flies open and The Boy hands me my phone. I look down to see that the Notes function is open and the word “Jugg” is written on the pad. The Boy points to what he has written. I yell to The Baby to get back into the shower and he yells, “MOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMYYYYYYYY” and starts to walk away faster.
Their father would be so proud.