As I was making breakfast Saturday morning, Keith walked into the kitchen with something in his hand.
"Mommy, I have a surprise for you."
"What is it Keith?"
"Its a rock."
But just the thoughtfulness made me so happy. My little boy is bringing me gifts. A rite of motherhood, I think.
I had to wake him up from his nap so we could go to a friend's birthday party. As we were in the car driving, I heard the most delightful song in the world. Keith was singing his heart out to a song he made up. When he finished, he said, "I sang that song for you, Mommy. I made it up for you."
We got there super late, things were just going wrong all over the place, and then the icing on the cake. I bent over to get Faye out of her carseat, and felt a slight tug on the seat of my pants. I didn't think much of it. Later that night my friend pulled me to the side and whispered that I had a hole in my pants.
"I see London, I see France, I see Amy's underpants."
My hands felt for the hole, fully expecting it to be slight. And then much to my mortification, I felt a big gaping hole the size of Texas. And you know everything is bigger in Texas, right? Luckily she let me borrow a pair of her pants, but the damage had been done. I am not sure how long it had been like that, nor am I sure how many people got to see more than they wanted to.
That night we gave Keith a bath. I wrapped a towel around his shoulders and hurried him to his room. As I knelt down to diaper him, I noticed an earwax blockade in his ears. I jumped up and rushed to the bathroom to grab a q-tip. When I got back Keith was standing, pointing to a spot on the ground and said, "I peeped, Mommy. I peeped on the floor." So much for potty training. He quite obviously doesn't have control over his bladder just yet.
