File this one under “things that actually happened.” In real life, it was a two-year-old Princess, not Pixie, who ran around butt-nekkid, refusing to squat on the pot and do her duty. It was one of those hair-pulling days where no matter how many times you yell, your kid still doesn’t listen. After believing I finally had Her Royal Tookus ensconced on the potty-throne, I called up my best friend, Mary. Wouldn’t you know it, just as Mary picked up the phone, Princess came streaking through the kitchen in her all-together. It’s a phone call Mary says she’ll never forget.
But Mary understands. Mary’s been there with her own darling little boy (he has the cutest brown curls!). And many times when she calls me, she gets just as distracted by her offspring as I do while on the phone. Our phone conversations usually run something like this…
Mary: “Hey Helen, what are you up to?”
Me: “Just getting dinner to– Will you put that down? No, Daddy did not say you could play with the steak knives! Go play in the living room! Sorry Mary, what did you ask me?”
Mary: “I forget. Probably wasn’t important. Hey, have you seen the ads for the new display at the museum? I was thinking– Young man! Get down off that table! I swear, you’re going to crack your head right open and I’m just going to point and laugh when you do! Sorry Helen. What was I saying?”
Me: “Uh… The museum! Yeah, I saw the disp– Pixie! Quit hitting your sister with the frying pan! And take that spatula out of your underpants! I need it to cook dinner!”
Mary: “No, you may not have ice cream for dinner. No, not for breakfast either. Because we don’t have any ice cream! Mommy got so stressed out after you tried to feed the cat to the dog that she ate it all in one sitting!”
Me: “Princess! Quit swinging your sister around by the ankles like that! You’re going to smack her right into the wa–“
CRASH!
Pixie: “WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
Mary: “–and quit sticking your finger up your brother’s nose! There’s no ice cream up there either!”
Me: “I don’t care if you didn’t mean to do it! She’s your sister, not a crash test dummy! And look at the size of that hole in the wall! Could it be any bigger?”
Mary: “Helen, I have to–“
Me: “–go. The kids are completely out of–“
Mary: “–control. I swear I’m gonna–“
Me: “–pull out all my hair if they keep this up! I’ll talk to you–“
Mary: “–later, when things quiet down. Maybe in about–“
Me: “–fifty years or so?”
Mary: “Yeah, that sounds about right. Talk to you then. Young man! Put that hammer down!”
Me: “Bye. Princess! Pixie! Put those scissors down NOW!!”
Click.
And that’s what a phone call is like when you have kids in the house.
Fan -freakin’-tastic! Sounds exactly like every conversation I have around la casa de Quinn.
Followed the link over from EREC-Erotic Romance. I’m sure I’ll be checking back again.
OMG! That’s co funny. You had me in tears. It sounds like all my phone calls.
Ava,
Glad you enjoyed it. EREC is one of those blogs I try to read on a regular basis, so I do enjoy feeling the love right now.
Jade,
The whole phone conversation thing reminds me of Bill Cosby talking about his dad. “I thought the man was stupid because he could never finish a sentence… then I grew up and learned why!”