The other morning, I was completely pumped and ready to charge out the door on time. Miracle. Lunches packed, bags ready, everybody dressed and rearing to go. Victory was mine. Then…
Cay: “I need to go toilet.”
Me: “No, no you don’t. Not really. Just hold it. Like this, see?” (Picture me scrunching my face like a tissue. Or something).
Cay: “YES! I NEED go toilet!”
Me: “Nah…let’s just wait…”
Me: “Okay. I surrender.”
35 minutes later, me now completely stressed and running late for my corporate character gig, Caleb’s appetite for sitting on the toilet completely satiated (allow me to stress here that he does not suffer from constipation, just from an apparent obsession with taking his time with cleaning the pipes.)
Oh the humanity.
*Note 1: if you are at all grossed out by the contents within this blog, I do apologise. But then again, I feel all things considered, I was rather subtle. Ehem.
*Note 2: if Caleb, you are reading this in years to come and you are horrified at the notion of me publicising your bowel life on the internet, then I do apologise. But then again, you did far worse to me in childbirth so consider us even.
*Note 3: if anyone reading this has actual suggestions that may help, please comment away. Serious or otherwise.
That is all.