Parenthood... Who’d’ve Thought

This has been a very interesting weekend in terms of happenings with Short Person. It started with the toilet paper argument and progressed into weird, in a definite funny sort of way.

So it's Sunday morning and since we are actually home for a change, we are getting ready to indulge in our breakfast tradition of pancakes and eggs. It's almost 10am and Short Person has been up a couple hours helping me clean my office. I'm nearly done, I only have a couple more things to put away, but she must have gotten bored because she's in the living room with Daddy. I can hear her talking to him about how she wants to help with pancakes.

I pick up the remaining items and carry them into the living room, kitchen, and our bedroom to put them away, announcing that she can now go into the office and watch Fievel if she'd like. Short Person jumps off the couch, grabs her Daddy's hand, and starts trying to pull him into the office. He's about 200 lbs. heavier than she is, so in an attempt to get him up I hear her exclaim, "Come on Daddy! Let's go look in Mommy's office and see what we can find!" The tone all together too close to that which you might expect from a child looking through Mickey Mouse's House-- NOT Mommy's office!

LOL... I just looked at her and said "Excuse Me!" to which the imp grinned back and trounced down the hall.

Later that same day...

We're watching some "House" episodes I've taped. On the television is a woman who is having heart surgery. Short Person looks at the screen and goes "I want to do that."

I'm having a proud parent moment and telling her that in another 20 years she could be a Doctor too and do surgery and she just looks at me and says, "No, Mom, I want to be the one getting cut!"

OMG, I know she's a hypochondriac, but that's taking things a bit too far if you ask me!

Fast forward to today...

I needed to go to Fred Meyer to get a picture cd made and also pick up some cold medicine for short person. I was hoping to get something that worked a little better at drying her up than what I'm currently giving her. We're standing in the aisle and I hear her go "Uh-oh... Mom... I need to be changed." I look down and see pee-pee dripping down her leg and onto the floor.

Oh crap.

Unbelievably (I say this because my luck is usually not this good) there is a telephone that you can pick up and get customer service a few feet away. I pick it up, explain the situation to the young man that answers, and then wait for him to show up with the paper towels and disinfectant. Lovely boy shows up a few minutes later and was so incredibly helpful and non-phased that it made me regret not getting his name.

Anyway, we get the floor cleaned up, Short Person's shoes off, and I grab the cold medicine I've decided on and we start down the aisle-- her still in wet pants and all. I'm walking quickly and urging her along and she's talking to me about how she wants to take them off. I'm in the middle of an explanation about the fact that she can't take her pants off when I look down and notice that she's already got them down to her knees and we're walking around like this.

Oh Lordy!

You know, when I signed up for parenthood, I don't believe all that would be entailed in the job was fully explained to me! LOL...