May 19, 2008
I'm home this morning with a sick James. When I walked by his bedroom door around seven, it sounded like there was an eighty-year-old gentleman with emphysema all cozied up in my child's bed. Luckily there wasn't, because I am so not up to kicking any elderly ass this morning.
Turns out James has a typical three-year-old cough. Unfortunately James also has typical three-year-old etiquette. In the span of two hours I have watched my child wipe his goo filled nose directly onto the arm of my couch, completely submerge his crud covered hand in Jared's cereal bowl, and last but certainly not least, James coughed straight into my wide open mouth while I was yawning.
Last Friday, Jared and I drove to pick James up from daycare together. Being the lazier spouse, I waited in the car while Jared ran to get him. About one minute later I watched the front door of the building violently swing open, and saw my toddler stumble down the steps. His sweatshirt was inside-out, his shoes were on the wrong feet, and his afro was notably slanted to the left.
He swerved as he walked to the car, and I winced as I watched him trip and fall--twice. When he finally made it to the station wagon he held up a scribbled piece of construction paper, ripped it in half, pushed both pieces of paper into my chest and said, "Hi Momma. Hi. Hi Mom. Mommy, hi. Hi. Hi Mom." And so on and so forth.
About fourteen seconds into the drive, the chatter came to an abrupt stop. I turned around to check on James, and discovered that he was out like a light in his car seat. His head was flopped forward, his mouth was wide open, and there was a long string of slobber connecting his chin to his knee.
I felt my heart well-up and a smile spread across my face in that fleeting moment of quiet cuteness. Then, after I had safely filed the image in my mental scrapbook (that's how the lazy moms do it), I turned to Jared and said, "It just occurred to me."
And he was all, "What?"
"Well," I replied, "He's obsessed with baby animals, he spills everything we give him, and he kicks us when we say it's time for bed. Jared...It's like we have our very own drunk person to babysit every single day and night. He's a total throwback to our college days, don't you think?!"
And suddenly, we felt young again.
I'm not just a mom. I'm also a designated driver.