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Four Things

There was no snow on the ground this morning, as my children had hoped.  Just frost.  And a lot of sunshine. Which, when translated, still means it’s time for snow pants–minus the snow.  And which meant that anyone breathing outside certainly couldn’t do it in secret.  Not even the dog.  Who, this morning, stood at the back door, an inch from the glass pane and panted.  And who prompted a phrase I’d not heard before until my son said,  “Look at Heathrow’s clouds.”  And behold, there were clouds rising from the dog’s mouth and nose.  I’ll be darn.

Then…completely unrelated and possibly as unimportant, I’d not previously known what a near-theme park experience our van could be.  Say, if you spend an hour and a half running around in it before actually leaving for grandma’s house–another three hours away.  But my son knows.  I came out to the garage with another suitcase to load in, and to clean out a dog’s dream worth of snacks from the floor, and there he was deep in the glove compartment, completely satisfied with his discovery of the bandaid box.  He was only four bandaids in, having peeled and wrapped them around each finger.  And, well, I do not know what happened once I went back inside.  I could barely think.

On the road, the same child who hung his right leg over onto his sister’s lap 43 times and poked her with his finger until she’d nearly bitten it off.  And who had talked of potties and diapers and all things closely related ’til he couldn’t laugh anymore.  His sister either.  That child.

That child…then had a sniffing contest with his sister.  By which time my husband chirped, “gee, I wonder where they get that from.”  (Only he says that because he also wishes he could smell when a fly perspires in the next room).  Acute olfactory senses here, people.  But anyway, there were our kids displaying another proud moment in the van, sniffing each other ’til they couldn’t breathe.  Two minutes.  Maybe five.

Then despite successfully peeing in the toilet at our potty stop in Cle Elum, our son would find it unnecessary to find the toilet at grandma’s house.  And…would…consequently pee in his orange sweats.  Twice.  Which I hadn’t thought possible either.

But it’s been a learning day for me.  I think I’ll spare you the rest.


2 Responses to “Four Things”

  1. Sarah says:

    The fun of a ride. We had a potty experience in Mt Rainier, where Joshua insisted “I have to pee right now.” We pulled over and he dd just that, for a looooonnnnggg time. When I asked him how long he had to go potty? He said; “I always had to go.”

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