Potty Mouth

This is the face of a really crabby kid. Sorry Oliver my love, but you were crrrr-abby.

Whenever he fell on his butt, he screamed. Not whimpered, not whined, but full-bore screamed. When he couldn't get up the stairs, he screamed. When I held him, he screamed. When I put him down, he screamed. When I tried to give him carrots, he screamed. When I - oh, you get the idea.

I'm on-call tonight, and just as we tumbled ourselves inside the door, I had a phone call to answer. Michael was upstairs getting ready for church, so it was just me, the crabby kid, and the phone. I was making recommendations on pain medication and so was hardly able to have a heart to heart with Oliver about the importance of staying quiet while Mommy's working on something very serious. So I sprinkeld a mixture of toddler yogurt melts and apple cinnamon cereal O's on the floor, where Oliver squatted and ate piece by piece. When I took the container of cereal O's away to put it on the table, however, all hell broke loose.

I flustered an apology to the caller, explaining that my todddler had missed his afternoon nap, and well, here we are. In a quick decision to not pick this particular battle, I gave Oliver the whole can of cereal O's. He sat digging his germy little toddler fingers into it, rustling the pieces around and tossing them into his mouth, reminding me of myself in the movie theater yesterday, me and my date the popcorn bucket.

That was his dinner because he screamed when I tried to add any source of substance to his tray after my call was finished.

"We should just put him to bed maybe," Michael said.

Maybe?

I zipped Ollie in his feet pajamas and became distracted for a bit with another project. All of a sudden, the loud, ominous sound of silence bore down upon us.

That could only mean one of three things. Oliver was in the bathroom, halfway up the stairs, or in the oven. It was the first of those evils. I turned the corner in horror to see him swishy-swishing his little Buzz Lightyear toothbrush in the toilet.

"No! Oliver, no! No, no no no noooooo....."

Before commencing with his scream, he aimed the toothbrush at his mouth.

He had the right idea, just the wrong source of water. We'll now begin teaching him the technique of finger-brushing because we are throwing that sucker out.