We had a decent snow storm Thursday night and so yesterday there was no school.
My husband is building a garage and wasn’t able to work outside, so he got to stay home .
He was making pancakes, and I was getting ready to go outside and shovel out the driveway and my car so I could go to the Y.
We were talking about some stuff in the kitchen.
All the kids were being good.
Well, they were being quiet.
We kind of went off on a tangent.
But we were enjoying having an uninterrupted conversation while the kids were actually awake.
It wasn’t too long before Number 4 came in and interrupted us.
We told her to give us a couple more minutes.
“Go back into the playroom,” I said. “We’re almost done.”
“Okay. But you DO NOT want to know what they are doing in there,” she said, and off she went.
My husband and I just looked at each other.
And immediately after that, Number 5 skipped out of the playroom and ran up the stairs.
Naked.
Followed shortly after by Number 6.
Also naked.
Apparently there was a pretty good game of “naked couch jumping” taking place in the playroom.
Somehow Number 4 was the only one who managed to keep her clothes on.
I guess there is still hope for her…
Anyway, we were still talking, my husband was making pancakes, the kids were coming into the kitchen to sit down, I was putting on my coat…
It was a little chaotic, and we were distracted.
We didn’t realize that Number 6 had never come back downstairs.
He is pretty deep into the toothpaste/shampoo/conditioner/liquid soap/shaving cream squirting phase.
At least three times a week there is an entire tube or bottle of something emptied into the bathtub.
So a good 5 minutes had passed, I still hadn’t left, and Number 6 was still upstairs.
Naked.
My husband called him.
“Number 6! Come downstairs so I can put your diaper on.”
No answer.
We started talking again.
Another couple minutes went by.
Oops.
Forgot about Number 6 again.
“Number 6! What are you doing?” my husband called a second time.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
“NUMBER 6!!! What are you doing up there???”
“Nussing Daddy,” he finally answered.
“Are you squirting something?” my husband asked.
No answer.
“NUMBER 6 ARE YOU SQUIRTING ANYTHING UP THERE???”
“yes?” a tiny voice answered.
And on that note, I said goodbye.
I headed outside, while my husband headed upstairs.
Moments earlier I had been cursing the snow.
But my husband was the one who actually got the short end of the stick.
Because it wasn’t toothpaste that Number 6 was squirting.
It wasn’t the shampoo.
It wasn’t the conditioner or the baby wash either.
Nope.
While I was oustide shoveling snow,
my husband was upstairs.
Shoveling shit.
And when Number 6 said he was squirting, well, he wasn’t lying.
Apparently he was squirting.
And squirting.
And squirting.
Yeah.
So I realized two things yesterday.
1) Good thing I made that big deposit the night before.
And
2) I don’t hate the snow half as much as I used to 😉
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WINTER SUCKS! But shoveling shit sucks worse!
My daughter is currently going through a naked phase. She’ll wear a top, but no bottoms, and if I put bottoms on her, they magically disappear. She’ll sneak into the bathroom and go poop, which is good cause she at least makes it to the potty, but she hasn’t figured out the wiping part yet. If I’m not paying attention she’ll go about her business, sitting on the couch, or crawling up on Mommy’s bed, smearing poop just about everywhere. I find myself constantly checking the toilet for deposits just in case.