The Boy and I were not on speaking terms this morning when I got into the shower. He had me up since 4:00 a.m. and I, in retaliation with cruelty known only to mothers, put the toilet bowl brush into the sink so he couldn't chew on it while I was in the shower. I know what he is thinking...
E: Dad always lets me chew on it when HE is in the shower. Or maybe he just gets tired of taking it away from me.
So there I am in the shower, trying to wake up because I have the boy for 36 hours on my own and how the hell am I going to get any studying done so I had better make the most of my 5 hours this morning.
I sneaked a peek around the corner of the shower curtain and there he is, standing at the back of the toilet. And his mouth is foaming. Foaming. He seemed to be enjoying the foam so I quickly ruled out Comet and Mr. Bubbles. I mean really. Comet can't possibly taste good. Mr. Bubbles, maybe. Being the conscientious mother that I am, I decided to try to solve the puzzle on my own without getting any hard evidence, say, from the child's mouth.
"Is it toothpaste, Pat?" I felt like I was on the Wheel of Fortune and I was trying to guess the word before all my counterparts so I could take a spin for the trip to the teeney-bopper mecca of spring break, Cancun. 7 days, 6 nights and they'll throw in a box of Immodium for good measure. But where would he get toothpaste? I'm trying to get that last little speck out of the tube myself these days. If he has a toothpaste stash that he is holding onto, I'm gonna be pissed.
Ultimately thwarted, I reached into his mouth and pulled out a Mint Tums. You gotta wonder what makes Tums foam in a baby's mouth.
When his father gets home, I'm gonna kill him.