'You know, one day you're going to look back on this and laugh.'
Have you ever had someone say this to you, and then immediately want to punch them in the face? Because even though they are probably right, and you will, in fact, look back on this one day and laugh, that day ain't today. Because you're still really pissed or upset at that particular moment, and the retard trying to cheer you up doesn't actually cheer you up, he just redirects your anger at him. Well an odd thing happened to me the other day; I was both of those people. I got angry, tried to cheer myself up with laughter, then got mad at myself for laughing about it. Let me explain:
Earlier this week, I was in my driveway changing out one of the headlights in Racheal's car. Jax was outside with me for awhile, then he climbed into the car and started playing around; climbing over seats, messing with the DVD player, etc. I kept looking over to make sure he was still breathing, and every time I looked he would just smile back at me. Then I heard him yell out, "Daddy, Daddy!" When I looked this time, he said, "I pooped my pants!" Now, at this point in Jax's life, he is completely potty trained. (We haven't had a poop incident since this story, and before that, this one.) So, to hear him say that, I was equally upset and confused. I began to yell at him about how he knows better than to poop in his pants, and why toilets are a better option. But as I made my way over to the side of the car, I became way more confused than upset. He was standing on the middle seat (we have the 3rd row seats, but he was in the middle), he still had his shirt on, but he was completely naked from the waste down. At first, I thought maybe that he took his pants off after pushing cotton because his drawers were too heavy. Or perhaps too warm. That theory didn't hold up, though, because I saw his pants and underwear crumpled up behind the drivers' seat, and they were clean. There was no trace of poop, whatsoever. At this point, I'm still yelling about the virtues of using the toilet, then it dawns on me, 'Maybe he just said he that NEEDED to go poop.' So I look at him and say, "Jax, do you need to go poo poo?" And he says matter of factly, "No. I already went poop." As if I was silly for asking. So then I looked at him straight in the face, and asked a question that I had never asked anyone before, and hope to never have to ask again, "Where?! Where did you poop?! I can't find your poop!" Just then, I noticed a brown substance smeared on the seat in the middle. (And believe me, there was NO chance I was playing 'Poop or Chocolate' this time.) Right as I was noticing the skid marks on the seat, something told me to look back by the 3rd seat. (And when I say 'something' told me, I don't mean like a Poop Fairy or anything. I mean that it's just kind of poop-intuition at this point. Like a poop sixth sense.) And sure enough, right there on the floor board, the biggest dang turd you've ever seen. It looked like a manatee. Or a two by four. Or some combination of both.
Keith had just come outside and his only response was, "See? This right here is the reason I don't think I'm ever having kids." And me? I could see the humor in it right away, but I got mad at myself for laughing, because I knew that I was going to be the one to have to clean it up. For a split second, though, I thought about walking back inside and pretending that I never saw it, like what I usually do when I see a cockroach. But then I thought about the old sayings, 'You don't sweep shit under the rug.' Or 'You don't shit wear you put your feet.' Or 'Wish in one van and shit in the other, and see which one fills up first.' Or 'Shit don't roll uphill....unless it's in the back of a trailblazer.' So I cleaned it up.
You may see a serious look on a sweet angel. I see a boy contemplating when he's going to
try out his Najeh Davenport impression
