The things we do for love and the funny ways that love clicks with our little guy.
Earlier this week, I walked into T’s room and it smelled rancid, like the room had been fertilized.
After sniffing around, I found the culprit: T had an accident and the soiled pants were in his hamper.
Thankfully, these accidents are rare. Unfortunately, because I was unlucky guy who stumbled upon it first, not the hubby, I had to clean it up.
As parents, we put up with a lot of shit in the name of love – but this was taking the analogy too far.
It reminded me of when I was younger and still lived with my parents. Pa was in his 80s and was having issues with making it to the bathroom.
One night, he didn’t quite make it in time and he started freaking out.
Being younger at the time, I thought, “Oh hell no.”
I shut off my lights and went to bed. Poor Ma had to clean it up. I only got up discretely to cover the crack under my door with towels because the stench was coming into my room. 😂
I thought with amusement about that moment as I cleaned T’s pants and underwear, scrubbing them under our bathroom tap.
It was unpleasant but I didn’t die. The last seven years of being his parent have desensitized me to certain things, like poop.
T walked in and when he realized what I was doing, he was horrified and mortified.
“That’s disgusting!” He said.
I told him this shows just how much I love him. “I love you so much I’m cleaning up your poop with my hands!”
It was one of those rare moments when T was caught speechless. But it only lasted a moment before he went out.
I made a note to get him back one day. It may take decades of patient plotting, and lots of Metamucil, but I’ll get him good one day.
During bath time that evening, I lied down on our bed, which was diagonal from our bathroom.
Before he stepped into our shower, he poked his head out and said sweetly, “I love you.”