A mere ten years ago, I couldn’t imagine every uttering those seven words in succession. Now I say things that make me take a step back and think, “Did I really just say that?” I think I understand what they’re talking about on reality television shows when the characters complain about being edited poorly, or their words being taken out of context. God forbid they had a camera in my house. These “one-liners” I find myself uttering so frequently would come back to haunt me.
Sidenote: I love to open the windows in our home when it’s a nice day, but often wonder if my neighbors hear me yelling these “one-liners”. So far they have been too kind to tell me. Thank you kind neighbors. You have allowed me to keep my dignity intact. For now.
Back to tampons and swords. My house was unusually quiet one afternoon. Quiet usually means trouble. I found George and Annabel upstairs in my master bathroom having a “light saber” battle with tampons. Yes, tampons. (They were unused, of course. Do you think we’re totally uncivilized around here?) Herein lies my parenting dilemma. They were actually playing together very nicely and having a good time. Do I let them turn my tampons into toys and get a few minutes peace, or do I tell them to stop? Snap out of it, Clare! It’s a tampon!
Alas, a Playtex tampon does not a toy make. I told them to stop.
“George, a tampon is NOT a sword!” I said.
“Yeah, Mom. It’s not a sword. It’s a light saber,” George calmly replied. “What’s a tampon?”
Not touching that one.
Whenever Henry remotely senses that George is in the slightest amount of trouble, he runs to the scene and he gawks. He relishes these moments.
Henry’s sensors went off. He just knew that somewhere in the house, George was about to get in trouble. There are skid marks up the stairs as Henry runs into my bathroom. “Ooh…George is in trouble for playing with Mom’s ‘privacy’ stuff!” He is practically giddy with excitement at this point. “Naughty step for George! “ Henry says.
“Henry, stay out of this! He’s not in trouble. He’s just going to put all this stuff away.”
I came back a few moments later and found them sticking panti-liners to my bathtub.
“Guys! Panti-liners are NOT stickers!”
Ugh. I just did it again.