I am a know-it-all. No doubt. You ask me a question, and chances are, I'll give you an answer, whether or not I know squat about your inquiry. This is a gift I rightly inherited from my father. This mom business sure makes me a bonafide know-it-all , and let me just set the record straight: I'd love to have a few moments off. Anticipating the next pee, request for a snack or when to pull out multiple milk cups because your imaginary friends are here -- not always a picnic.
Here's a little of what I know.
- I know where you are when two little feet poke out from underneath a bulging curtain and a little voice says, "Where's Jasper? Find Jasper."
- I know you don't have to poop when we sit there for 15 minutes reading yet another stinking Thomas the Train book. It's just a naptime delay.
- I know you are not really afraid of the toilet. You just like to poop in the potty chair because you think it's fun to dump poop into something.
- I know that touching your penis probably feels good, but for the love of Pete, let's not man-handle in public.
- I know the drink of water you request at bedtime is not a life or death situation.
- I know when your sick pains are a bluff. I always ask if it's your big toe nail. You undoubtedly reply yes, and for some reason, I am willing to kiss it to right your world once again.
- I know you will not eat the peas I put on your plate, even when I top them with olive oil and kosher salt. I also know that even though you will not eat them, you will ask me if it is kosher salt or sea salt, as if it makes a difference.
- I know that when I catch you playing with the hose in the backyard with soggy feet and dripping hair that the huge wet spot on your crotch has no connection to the hose other than it acting as a distraction.
- I know that you will do almost anything for a granola bar.
- I know that when you sass, mock, or otherwise push buttons, you come by it honestly with these two parents you've got. And for that, I am humbled.
