I wrote this a while ago, but am just now getting around to posting it. . .
Yesterday my morning started with E. telling me he peed in his bed. Then I went to get A. and the first thing he said to me was: "Poop. Big poop." Lovely. I would prefer it if he waited to have his bowel movements until after I've had my coffee.
Then today, in a rare turn of events, E. took a nap and A. did not. Actually, A. fell asleep in the car for about five minutes. It happened to be pouring down rain when I needed to transfer him from the car to his bed. That didn't work so well. I didn't count the five minutes of sleep in the van as an actual nap, but he did.
E. woke up from his nap super cranky. He didn't want anyone to speak. He told me he wanted me to have nothing. I didn't ask, but I'm pretty sure he meant anything in life, ever. Then he didn't want dinner. He only liked long bacon not cut-up bacon. And this went on and on.
And finally seven p.m. rolled around and I thought I'd pretty much made it to bedtime. But the day wasn't over yet. A. rolled away from me while I was trying to get p.j.'s on him. I told him to come back, which he did at a full-out run just as I was reaching back from getting something. I elbowed him in the face. I decided to risk it and comfort him while he was naked. I'm sure you can guess what happened next. I didn't even feel it, but he pulled away from our hug and pointed to my pants. "Did you pee on me?" I asked him. "Yeah," he said. At least he's honest.
And that's how things go when Dave is out of town.