Wahoooo! It's Friday! Welcome to this week's edition of Das Not Funny! Friday. What is Das Not Funny! Friday? CLICK HERE if you've never participated or read a Das Not Funny! Friday post and want to know why I write them. And if you have your own funnies to post, simply leave a link to your post in the comments.
On with the show....
Ashlee is a flower girl in our sweet Babysitter/Nanny's wedding. On Monday, Babysitter/Nanny Amanda and I took her to the Bridal shop to try on some flower girl dresses. Turns out, just because you have an appointment doesn't mean you'll actually get to try on dresses anywhere near that time frame.
Which would have been excellent to know before we took my hyped up on frill and lace and - OH WOOK MOM A DRESS! ANOTHER DRESS! A PREEEEETY DRESS! - 4 year old into the dress shop for a 40 minute wait. Have I ever told you that Ashlee loves dresses? No? Imagine a cat locked in a closet lined with catnip. Multipy that by 40 and that was Ashlee with all the PRETTY DRESSES! I LOOOOOOOVE THIS ONE MOM!
Anyway. We killed some time by letting her try on some fun things, like this birdcage veil. Which confused her beyond all reason because it totally didn't have a bird in it.
Finally, Amanda and I decided that maybe the 4 associates who were standing around looking at paper needed some encouragement in the form of our dominating presence. Also known as, "we moved closer to the front desk and lingered."
You know what else is near the front desk?
Mannequins. Mannequins displaying top of the line bridesmaids dresses and bridal gowns. Do you know what my sheltered 4 year old has never encountered up close before?
Mannequins.
She was so perplexed.
So of course I did what any respectable mother would do in that situation. I chuckled at her under my breath and took pictures of her with my cell phone.
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Speaking of poop, Luke and I don't. At least not in front of each other. I have a firm belief that you should never watch the person you are intimate with wipe.
I'm pretty sure that's in the Bible somewhere. 1st Doodieronomy or something. (Ba doom ching. Sorry, I couldn't resist.)
Annnnyway, on Sunday morning we are all scampering around getting ready for church. Well, most of us. Luke is not really scampering as much as he was, ahem, sitting. On the throne. And as much as I am opposed to seeing my husband on the toilet (or allowing him to see me taking a doodieronomy) all bets are off for everyone else that breathes air in our house.
I can't tell you the number of motherhood-oriented tasks I've performed, in the bathroom, while, well...you know. Needless to say, our kids are allowed in the bathroom during just about anything.
While I'm downstairs in the kitchen, Luke is upstairs sitting in his royal position, reigning as King of the Toothbrushing. (Hey, every person on a throne is king of something, right?)
I overhear him telling Ashlee to please shut the door.
"Why Dad?" she asks.
"Because, Mommy doesn't want to see Daddy on the potty. Now, shut the door," Luke persists.
The conversation becomes muffled behind the bathroom door and I quickly forget about the whole thing. Until later that morning while we are sitting in church. All three of the big kids attend Big Church with us. Mostly they just color or draw or play with a quiet toy but often they catch 1 thing from the sermon and we like to talk about it. This past Sunday, Ashlee was laying across her chair with her head in my lap, eating some Cheese Its.
If you know my Ashlee you know that she has 3 volumes.
1) Loud.
2) Still loud.
3) Off.
Ashlee turns her face up to mine, while I'm messily scribbling sermon notes, and in a volume that only a deaf person could ignore says,
"Mom? How come you and Daddy can't see each other's poops?"
Poor girl. Between the mannequins and the privacy of poop, she's had a rough time cognitively. What I'd really love to do is bring home a mannequin and put it on our toilet. Think that would push her over the edge too much?
Y'all have an Royally Blessed weekend!
