I was going through my morning routine as usual this morning with the TV on in the background. Ignoring most of what was on the morning news, there was a movie trailer on during a commercial break. In the trailer was the statement “What were you thinking?” Out of nowhere, this smirk came upon my face for an event that happened ages ago when my son was only three years old. So here goes.
Picture it. (I sound like Sophia from Golden Girls!) Getting ready for work, the sun is barely up, my son is dressed for daycare, I’m packing the lunches and doing the last minute checklist before walking out the door. So far the morning is golden; no glitches in the routine.
Me: “Are you done brushing your teeth?”
No comment. Take a breath, pause and peek around the corner.
Me: “What are you doing? We don’t want to be late.”
Son: “I’m cleaning up.”
Me: “There’s nothing to clean. Are you done with your teeth?”
Son: “Yes, but there’s this stuff that needs cleaning here.”
At a three year old’s eye height was the grout circling the sink.
Son: “This needs to be cleaned.”
I beg to differ.
Me: “It’s fine. Let’s go.”
Son: “I’m almost done.”
Me: “What are you cleaning it with?”
As I asked the question, I came to a dead halt. My eyes must have shot out of my head like in a cartoon. He had a toothbrush in his hand! Visions of going to the doctor immediately flashed before my eyes. What’s the pediatrician’s number? Did he have his shots? I may have to call work to tell them I’ll be late. Other visions followed…unpretty visions of possible outcomes. YUCK!
Son: “It’s OK. I do this all the time.”
Me: “You’re cleaning with your toothbrush?”
Son: “No. That would be silly! I’m cleaning with yours!”
Cathy
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