Conversations with Three

Three:  Mommy, you go to potty?  In your bathroom?

Me: Yes, Three.  When are you going to go potty in the bathroom?

Three:  When I grow a pen*s.

Me:  I'm not sure that's going to happen without substantial effort and assistance. Maybe we can try the potty sooner?

Three:  Ok.

Me:  Ok.  (now yelling to Dan)  I KNOW WHEN THREE IS FINALLY GOING TO BE POTTY TRAINED!

Dan:  When?

Me:  (with a straight face) When she grows a pen*s.

Dan:  Well, I guess we have a definite time frame then. 

Me:  Really?

Dan:  Yeah, like never.

****

The big girls are doing super summer math workbooks.  They are due weekly, and somehow we end up doing the entire week's worth the night before they are due.  Again.  Dan is out for a run with the dog, and I'm bribing Three to give us a moment of quite with a leftover Re*ce's peanut butter egg from Easter-- one of the big ones.  My favorite candy on earth.  I was desperate.

I tell her to eat it slowly and that the big kids will be done in a few minutes.

Me:  Moo, you add up the sums in the bubbles. Color anything that has 7 as a total purp.....

Three:  (muffled)  muffmeee!

I look over and she has stuffed the entire giant egg in her mouth at once.  She is drooling chocolate spit and she looks like she has a tennis ball in her mouth.  I quickly start to walk her into the kitchen, where there isn't a rug, sensing that perhaps this isn't going to end well.

Me:  Spit it out, just spit it out. 

Three tries to spit it out, but the peanut butter appears to be stuck to the roof of her mouth. Chocolate is being drooled on my socks.  She gags once, and suddenly I'm covered in chocolate peanut butter vomit.

There is not a spot on her.  Not even that spittle string that sometimes hangs off of your mouth after a good barf.

Three:  (cheerfully) Well that was gross!

Me: (wiping vomit off my face) Yes, yes it was.

I strip in the kitchen and head off to the shower.  Doodle and Moo are instructed to stop math and put on a show to watch with their sister until their Dad comes home.  I've thrown the clothes in the washer and wiped up most of the puke.  All that is left is the wrapper and a smear of chocolate barf on the floor.

Doodle:  DON'T LET PRITZIE IN THE KITCHEN THERE IS CHOCOLATE BARF ON THE FLOOR AND SHE WILL GET SICK AND DIE!!! 

Dan:  What the?

Moo:  (nonchalantly) Oh, Three barfed chocolate on Mom. She's taking a shower.  It was gross.

Dan:  (from outside the shower curtain) I was gone for 30 minutes and there was barf and what????

Me:  Just give me 15 minutes.  Please.  I need to wash the barf out of my hair.  Just 15 minutes.  I will explain.  And then we will never speak of it again.

Dan:  (laughing) I wasn't gone that long......So just your average night, huh.....


Me:  GET. OUT.  BEFORE I HURT YOU.

Dan:  I'm sorry.