Blah Blah Blah TRAILER!!

I spoke too soon.

I was standing in the kitchen, preparing dinner, when the front door flung open and in ran my son.

"EMMY blah blah blah BLAH!!!" He said excitedly as he hopped from one foot to another next to the dining room table.

"What?" I glanced up from the cutting board, knife poised to chop that onion, thinking to myself, why is that boy always mumbling so much? I really have so much to do...

"Blah blah blah blah TRAILER!!!" He said, a little louder this time. Trailer. Yes. That trailer is an eyesore, sitting there parallel to our driveway next to the shop. I really need to ask my hubby to move that thing soon. Where was I?

"Excuse me, son?!" Weird. Maybe I really am going deaf. I shouldn't have such a hard time understanding him. Concentrate, Lisa, concentrate!

"Moooom!!", he moaned as his shoulders slumped. "Blah blah blah THE BLAH!!!"

I put the knife down as I began to realize that something was definitely wrong here. Where is my brain?! Do I need to clean my ears out? EARTH TO LISA!!!

"Okay, one more time, Josh, slowly and clearly."

"Blah PEED blah blah BLAH!!!! he said, his little shoulders slumping down as he looked in my face for some sort of recognition.

Nothing. Blank. "DOES NOT COMPUTE. DOES NOT COMPUTE." My brain kept telling me.

I found myself sitting down, hands over my face...whoa, what am I doing? I just had a knife in my hands, where'd it go?!..., willing my brain to translate what my kid said and hoping that the vigorous shaking of the head would drive the fog away.

Reaching out, I drew him to me and asked, very slowly, very carefully, if this is what he said:

"Emmy. Peed. Off. Of. The. Trailer."

He solemnly nodded his head and ran back outside.

Goodlorda'mightywhatkindachildamIRAISING?!?!?!

I shot outside in time to see that he was indeed telling the truth. There she stood, nekkid from the waist down, in broad daylight, indeed quite proud of herself for having taken off her pull-up, and peed from the very top of the gooseneck onto the ground below her. I glanced around to see if any neighbors were craning their necks to see what the fuss was about before quickly grabbing her down off the trailer and sending her inside.

Apparently I need to add this clause to our little agreement: ...which activity must take place within the confines of the toilet bowl...

As in: You will receive a star on the calendar for every day you are able to complete without peeing or pooping in your unders, which activity must take place within the confines of toilet bowl within an appropriate facility (i.e. our bathroom, grandma's bathroom, a store/gas station bathroom) beginning at 5pm and ending at 4:59pm the following day, after which accumulation of 20 stars occurs to gain access to the Diego Rescue Pack obtained by me for such purpose.

Judging by how terribly proud she was of herself for her accomplishment, I don't really think my speech or the delineation of the clauses within will make a whole lot of difference to her. But at least I did eventually get my brain to work.

Momentarily.