Every Wednesday, my son’s preschool hosts a Show-and-Tell session, focusing on the “letter of the week.” Just last week, for instance, the letter was “H.” Little Max proudly showcased his headlamp, declaring, “This is my HEADlamp. Huh-huh-headlamp.” You catch my drift.
Now, I’m not the most organized mother in the universe. This morning, I jolted awake thinking, “OH NO, it’s Wednesday?! What’s the letter again?” frantically searches through papers “Max, quick! Find something that starts with the letter D! Duh-duh-DEE! Go!”
Max returned promptly holding his trusty Spider-Man umbrella. “How about dis umbrella?”
Uh, no, buddy.
“Umbrella starts with U. Uh-uh-umbrella,” I explained, trying to stifle my laughter. His face fell.
“Mommy, DIS umbrella!” he insisted, shaking his head vigorously.
I was trying not to laugh too hard while also packing his lunch, so I encouraged him, “That’s close, sweetie! But ‘this’ is T-H. TH-TH-THIS.”
With a hint of disappointment, Max set the umbrella aside. “Try again, baby. Think of something that begins with D. Like Duh-duh-DINOSAUR!”
His eyes lit up with excitement as he shouted, “OOOOOH! Let me outside, Mommy! I know JUST THE THING!”
Now, here’s where I need to pause. For the past few days, I’ve been lamenting about a terrible smell on our porch. My husband just nods along, thinking I’m being dramatic—probably the same way he denies his own flatulence. But I digress.
We headed outside, and Max sprinted to his secret spot, where he keeps his “collection” of rocks, bugs, and other treasures. “How ’bout MY DEAD BIRD! DUH DUH DEAD BIRD!” he exclaimed, reaching down, while I started screaming and nearly gagged.
“OH MY GOODNESS, SON! Don’t touch it! HAVE YOU TOUCHED IT? HOW LONG HAVE YOU HAD THIS?” I was about to bleach everything in sight, including my son and that unfortunate bird. And guess what? We were now late for preschool with nothing to show.
“Go grab your doggy! Duh duh DOGGY! Hurry inside and get a stuffed dog right NOW!”
He dashed inside, looking utterly betrayed. Meanwhile, I was flinging the dead bird over the fence, dry heaving, and wondering what other treasures lurked in that collection.
He returned with something fluffy. “Mommy, how about dis animal?”
I took a deep breath. It was either a soft dog or a cat—who cares? It wasn’t rotting flesh, so I approved his choice, and off we went to preschool, twenty minutes late. The letter D, folks. DUH-DUH-DEE. Meaning today, Mommy is DEAD.
#DISisMotherhood
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In summary, parenting is filled with unexpected surprises, and sometimes you just have to roll with it—no matter how wild the situation gets.