Once upon a time, when Sawyer couldn’t talk and everyone napped long enough for me to chronicle each and every day, I used to write a weekly feature called “Dear Daddy” from the viewpoint of Sawyer. A lot of people
my mom and my husband loved it but the more he actually began to talk the harder it became for me to assume his “voice” when I wrote so “Dear Daddy” went into retirement. On the eve of Sawyer’s first day of preschool I thought I would bring it back just one more time to remind myself how much I love these little people they put me through.
Well today was a doozy. So was yesterday and the day before that and the day before that but today takes the cake (with sprinkles, or not) (don’t worry the genius of that little mention will be clear soon enough).
Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, strapped in my five-point don’t-forget-you’re-under-30-pounds-buddy restraint in the back of our Happy Meal holder on wheels when Mommy says, breathing deepy:
“Mommy doesn’t feel very good. When we get home Mommy is going to go upstairs for a minute and I need you to be really good and play with your toys downstairs until I come back okay?”
Now Daddy I don’t have to tell you this is three year-old gold. I mean the sky was raining fruit snacks and pacifiers I swear it.
Well Mommy started stopping the Dream Machine before we even gotted to the house and there was a little yuckiness that I’m going to try to tell you ab…
yep she took it out, I knew it. Who edits a three year-old? Who?
So now we’re home. Mommy quick unbuckles us and runs up our stairs like she does when I’m pushing that button for water on the frigerator with no cup.
And me I’m sitting back, letting the big kids have their way with the cupboards, a little chips my way, a little any toys I want, a little dumping drawers like I’m the trashman but then It hits me.
What It you ask? The It that hit Mommy, that’s what.
And you know me Daddy, I’m new at this whole getting to the potty business. Throw me a curve ball and it’s landing. Right where I’m a standin’.
Oops, are you eating Daddy? I hope not but if you are don’t you worry I’m about to save the day.
Well now here I am standing with some problems when I see the perfectest thing I’ve ever seen, looking right at me in a big huge colory bottle.
I runned and grabbed those sprinkles before Parker could turn his teeth rainbow, (ran squishy through my little problem but I’m under 30 days out of a diaper, I can handle it).
So sprinkle, sprinkle, sprinkle I did. If you can’t clean it you might as well decorate it right Daddy? Mommy loves colors.
But you know when Mommy finished her being sick upstairs I just don’t think she preciated my rainbow.
Women. So hard to please.
Gotta go, preschool orientation in five, getting powerwashed by the boss.
Your Butting Artist (Get it Daddy? Ha!)
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