Not going to lie, I thought it was Friday by Tuesday this week.
I loathe complainers, but this week kicked my butt. I have driven in Seattle traffic every morning this week, got a laptop stolen, only hit the gym once, and had to have an important and uncomfortable conversation with a three year old boy.
My son is growing up into a “big boy” fast. Finally getting used to the toilet, he is sitting without the training seat. He took his first solo shower earlier this week. The scream I heard from the bathroom was something from a Quentin Tarantino movie. I honestly couldn’t differentiate which child it was coming from.
Keenan used my soap instead of the “no tears” baby soap. He is growing so fast. I totally forgot about the pain you experience when you first switch to big boy soap. I was hoping maybe the formula has changed, I either got desensitized, or really don’t wash all over any more because it’s been 35+ years since I had the soap in the dick hole pain.
I pull back the curtain to find a hurt, confused boy. Trying his best to clearly speak, he cries out “daddy daddy, mfdvhthgjdybdguhfd.”
He’s squeezing parts, hiding from the shower stream, in a sort of standing fetal position. The Coast bar still spinning around the drain. He’s still got soap on his hands when he tries to rub away the tears. Another round of screaming.
We’ve all been there buddy. It’s one of the memories that never leaves. Just say “soap in the dick hole” to any guy and watch. You’ll see the standing fetal.