Single mom for a night

5 11 2006

Jeff went out tonight and it was just me and Ethan. Yeah, yeah, it’s been “just me and Ethan” every single weekday for the past 67 weeks, but it’s never been just us and dark outside at the same time. And that makes it totally different. It does. Anyway, things were going well at first: he ate all of his lima beans, we finger painted, and he had his bath, all by 7 o’clock. But then…

Then he peed on the floor in his room. And on his awesome handmade quilt. And then he pooped on the already peed on quilt. And on his bath towel. And my hand. Poop. Everywhere. Can’t get any worse, right? But then…

Then he threw my phone. And now it looks like this.

drink.jpgNow the poop monster is in bed (I can hear him playing his music, which means he’s also probably dancing… but technically he’s in bed, so I don’t care), and I am having a much needed drink. It’s not as good as Jon’s Mom (is anything?), but it is a lovely little concoction with magical powers: the more I drink, the less I care that I recently held a turd in the palm of my hand.

Just a day in the life, I guess.



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