As many of you know, there is one place in the house where a mother can get a few minutes of guilt-free reprieve from the mayhem:
NOT for me this evening though... and again, many of you know what I am talking about when I say just how unjust it seems to have slipped away from the din, closed the door and breathed a sigh of relief, only to be accosted by a sick and whiny two-year-old pounding on the door and wailing (yes, wailing) the name which can at once sound dear and at other times (such as this)...
NOT so dear:
The sad truth hits - you did NOT escape.
The "din" followed you!
Now, I would have taken her with me if she had been in the right place at the right time, but she was a day late and a dollar short.
I think that's what I was too.
I'm glad I have a sense of humor, for with ringing ears I listened to her pound on the door with her fist, then try throwing her body into it a few times, and finally when the first two (more bold and aggressive) measures didn't produce the desired effect, I heard a sweet little two-handed knock.
That one was pretty cute. Too bad for her, she'd already set the tone!
So much for "The Reprieve of The Loo"!
It's actually pretty quiet at the moment, after all that rig-a-ma-role. But if you want a really good story, stay tuned for My Mother's Day. (It was a DOOZY!)
3 years ago