Yesterday, my husband called me at work to say that he was staying home because his back was really bothering him. I was thrilled; not only did it mean I didn’t have to rush to LI’s school at the end of the day to pick him up, but it meant that I could run – something I never get to do on a Tuesday.
I spent the rest of the day thinking about that run. I soaked in the sunshine during outdoor play, imagining that I would have that same warm weather at 7:00. It never hurts to dream.
But, at 7:00, Daddy was sound asleep, Skipper was still at choir practice and LI needed his bath. My run was nowhere in sight. Instead, I was now looking at some quality time with my windtrainer.
Little Ironman, though, had a different agenda. He wanted to play, he wanted to read, and he did not want to have his bath. By 7:45, when Skipper got home, I had only managed to get LI partially undressed. My bike was calling me and I couldn’t let it down; I had to get him bathed and into bed.
“Oh, let’s use that cool facecloth that we bought a few weeks ago.”
Little Ironman froze. “What facecloth?”
“The one you like with the pumpkins on it. You know, the one that gets bigger when it gets wet.”
Suddenly, the clothes were off, he hurried into the bathroom and tossed the facecloth in the water. I asked Skipper to keep an eye on him while I started to get things ready for my date in the basement. Then the shrieking started, and I cringed.
“Mom, quick, you have to come upstairs! Mom, come here! Mom, I need you!”
And, before I knew it, Little Ironman was running downstairs butt-naked, yelling, “Mom, quick! You’ve got to come upstairs! You’ve got to see the face cloth! It’s really nice!”
We headed up. “You’ve got to see it! It’s really nice! It’s nicer than a girlfriend!”
Did I tell you that he’s only four? I think I better start paying more attention to his stories about kissing games.