I Can Read A Book,Make A Sandwich and Sew A Bear.
Can't you?
My kids take a shower or bath at least
They are familiar with the concept.
However, when it comes to MY shower/bath time, I am always amazed at what exactly they think I am doing in there.
It never fails, I get a knock on the door.
"Yes?"
"mumblemumblemumble"
"What?"
"googleygoogleygoogleguck"
"WHAT?"
"blahblahblahblah"
"I can't hear you! Come in here and tell me!" By this time, I'm irritated and certain this must be the emergency with which I told them was the only reason they could interrupt my
Enter mumbler: "Can you read me my book?"
"Ummm.....Not right now? I have shampoo on my hair!"
OR: "I'm hungry, can I have a sandwich?"
"Yes, only if you want your bread extremely soggy."
OR: "Princess Bear has a hole in her!! Can you fix it?"
"I'm afraid of what I would poke if I had a needle in here."
My favorite actually occurred about 8 years ago, when Jayce was about 3 years old. He was a very imaginative child and LOVED Woody and Buzz.
For some reason, we had his car seat in the living room.
I went to take my shower, putting on Toy Story for about the 3rd time that day.
This was "Pre-JosieJarrettJeven days" so my shower time was a lot less interrupted. However, I'm about 5 min. into my shower when I hear all this banging around.
"Thump. Thump. Thumpthumpthump"
"What in the world??"
Pretty soon, I hear Jayce "Mom?"
"Yes, dear child?" Again, it was pre-JosieJarrettJeven days so I had waaayyy more patience back then.
"I'm stuck."
I peek around the curtain to find Jayce with his car seat strapped to his back.
"What happened?"
"I was in my rocket ship, getting ready for blast off. I buckled myself in but now I can't undo it!"
Did I rush right out of the shower and help the poor boy?
Of course not!! I still had 5 minutes left of my shower!! And, half of my sandwich left.
After my run tonight, I announced I was taking a shower and my "Mom-ness" was off duty. Tony was sitting on the couch, perfectly capable of handling anything they could ever want and or need, and let's face it... they are ten and 11, they can handle whatever they need.
ReplyDeleteBut of course... there was knocking on the door.
*sigh*
heehee...
ReplyDeleteI remember telling my son that I was going to go to the bathroom and that he should not bother me. A few minutes later a little note came under the door.
"dere mom. can i have a cookiee pleze"