I’m giving away our new favorite book – Is Your Buffalo Ready for Kindergarten here.
I have a new giveaway up for a Monopoly board game here.
And now, it’s Mister Man’s turn. Poor kid.
So Thursday night around 10:30pm, I was just about sound asleep when I heard the pitter patter of Mister Man pounding into the bathroom outside my bedroom door. This is a fairly regular occurence, as he wakes up having to go – and he really has to go – in the middle of the night every night.
That night, however, I heard a howl just after he jumped into the bathroom. Ohhhhhhhh nooooo! I didn’t mean to, I didn’t mean to! It was an accident!
That’s never a good sign.
I quickly hopped out of bed to see what was wrong. When I asked him, I got an incomprehensible answer, so I tried again. I started to make a little progresss with him, but it was still mostly gibberish.
Mommy, I don’t know how it happened. It was in the washing machine, and it exploded everywhere and I don’t know how I did it. Little Miss’s Pull-Up was everywhere and now I have it and I don’t know how I did it. I swear it was an accident.
By now I was confused but pretty sure it wasn’t as dire a situation as I’d first feared. I knew he was referring to the horrific incident with Little Miss’s Pull-Up when it met the washing machine, but I wasn’t sure how that related to him.
I took a deep breath and began to calm him. It was then that I noticed his pjs pooled around his feet. With a Pull-Up inside them. I blinked and looked more closely. Yep, there was definitely a Pull-Up there. A pink one. And this from a boy who went from diapers 24/7 to being fulled p0tty trained in a matter of days.
The pieces slowly began to fall into place for me.
The wee ones had both been very tired at bedtime. And earlier that night, my husband had given each of them a shower. When it was Little Miss’s turn, he had reminded her to go get a Pull-Up, as she’d apparently only brought in her nightgown. I’m guessing that she actually had brought in a Pull-Up that first go ’round, so there was a random Pull-Up on the bathroom counter when it was Mister Man’s turn.
Poor tired boy, he wasn’t paying attention (not an uncommon situation) when he put his pjs on, and he grabbed her Pull-Up instead of his underwe@r. He was none the wiser (how he can fit into a Pull-Up that is a size 2-3T is beyond me, by the way, but I won’t ponder that mystery for right now) until his p0tty break in the middle of the night, when he was horrified by thinking that he had one of his sister’s used, nasty Pull-Ups that had gone through the washer and had exploded and somehow attached itself to the inside of his pjs.
I probably would have howled had I thought that was happening to me, too. After I reassured him – and got him a pair of his own underwe@r – he was able to trot back off to bed and go back to sleep.
I was hoping that this one another of his nocturnal adventures that would be lost in the haze of sleep, as so many of our conversations at that hour are. Unfortunately, he recalled it in the morning . I’m guessing it was slightly too traumatic for him to ignore.
Now if only I could get Little Miss out of those Pull-Ups so this wouldn’t be an issue (I’ve fully given up on my previous strategy; it was a miserable failure defined by mountains of laundry).
And let me clarify – that Pull-Up? It was a clean one. And a fresh one. It was the possibility he was horrified by, not the reality. Thank GOODness.