Page 39 of The Lucky List
Micah points to the bathroom. “In there.”
My gut sinks. How long has he been in there? He could have half of his Hot Wheels collection in the toilet right now, using it as a car wash again. When I approach the door, I hear his soft little voice, and I crack it open to check on him.
“Pee-nis! Heehee. Poop. Poopoo in the potty. Peepee in the potty. Fart! Toot toots!” He makes a fart noise. I can’t tell which end of his body it came from since I only have the door cracked.
It’s hard to stifle my laughter, but I muster the strength.
I push open the door a bit more, and Levi startles. “What are you doing, buddy?” I use my sweetest voice, like I’m trying to tame a rabid raccoon. And since it’s Levi, I pretty much am.
“I’m in the potty! You said I could use potty words in the potty. Those were the rules.” He places his hands on his hips and pouts.
I get that he’s trying to stand his ground, and he has some solid logic, but I stare at him dumbfounded, trying to suppress my laughter, impressed by how his mind works. I love this kid so much, and all I want to do is scoop him up and tell him how amazing I think his brain is—but I can’t encourage this behavior, or his preschool will be constantly calling me. “Are you using the potty?”
He shakes his head.
“You came into the bathroom just so you can say potty words?”
He nods his head. “Am I in trouble?” His voice is soft, his eyes big, as he gives me “the face.” You know the one. The face that all guilty kids make when they know they are in troubleand make themselves extra cute to avoid punishment. Except this time, he didn’t do anything wrong. He probably thinks he’s in trouble because I look angry when really I’m just trying not to laugh.
My sweet precious boy decided he wanted to use potty language, so he went into the bathroom to use it because I told him that potty talk is only allowed in the bathroom. It’s so freaking cute. Inside, I’m dying of laughter. Outside, I’m composed, ready to handle my foul-mouthed preschooler.
“You’re not in trouble.”
“Can I have another Fudgsicle?”
“No, buddy, you’ll spoil your lunch.”
He runs out of the bathroom and launches himself onto the couch. Micah is still in the kitchen finishing his Fudgsicle.
“Micah, can you keep an eye on your brother for a minute while I grab my phone? Make sure he doesn’t try to sneak another Fudgsicle.”
“Yes, Mama.”
“Thanks.”
“Can you put the code in the iPad so I can play?”
Taking the device from him, I punch in the code, figuring it might keep Levi distracted long enough for me to actually check my phone and return some texts, not just grab it. I kiss Micah on the head and run upstairs with the fifteen minutes I just bought myself. There are dozens of missed texts from Bella.
Bella
Hey! It’s 10 and your kids are ready for pickup.
Lucy?
Are you on your way?
Where are you?
Okay I’m starting to get worried.
Helllloooooo
Seriously, are you okay?
Why aren’t you answering?
Do you need an ambulance or are you just ignoring me?
