I have a feeling I’m not the only one who has uttered these eleven words to a very persistent toddler. As with most anything, the moment I attempt to take care of any personal need, allowing Peppa Pig to babysit my child (don’t judge me, you know you’ve allowed Nick Jr. to babysit yours) I am tracked down with the speed and efficiency of a team of bloodhounds.
It’s nice to know I’m wanted and loved, but since when does ‘Dad’ not get the same constant requests for attention? We are both working parents, however, I seem to be the popular choice when the slightest need must be met IMMEDIATELY.
Who knew my kid could channel his inner “Stewie” from the Family Guy. Most mornings I’m met with “Mummy, MUmmy, MUMmy…. MUMMY, MUMMY I have to pee, it’s morning time!”. Gee, thanks for the reminder. But, as any
mother who is damn grateful to not give her life savings to Pampers anymore good mother knows, I should just be grateful that my son is expressing his need to urinate in a toilet, rather than urinate on himself. *sigh*
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. I’m really not. I love my child. I adore him. And I realize that one day I will long to hear him call for me, rather than slam his bedroom door in disgust of my middle aged ignorance. I get it.
But just for once, couldn’t you hang off your father? Just for once couldn’t I get mascara on BOTH eyes? Just for once could I NOT have to perform hostage like negotiations to get you to eat your damn bowl of Cheerios? Just for once could I not have to barricade the bathroom door, or at least not have to use the facilities with lightning speed in order to make it back to the livingroom in time to DVR Team Umizoomi? Just once?
I love my son, I really do. But leave me alone, I have to pee. The wine is kicking in.