Lyle speeds to the bathroom as fast as he can and jumps with both feet into the room. “Mommy!” he shouts exuberantly, “Peepees, poopies, and BUTT!!!”
Then he zooms back out to play.
Apparently, he took me seriously when I explained that those are “bathroom words” that we only use when we’re in the bathroom!
“Bax, have you done all this homework?” I ask, looking at the list he’s written in his agenda notebook.
“Well, it’s weird, Mommy,” he begins, “she said we have to do some math, but I don’t know if she ever gave us a worksheet.”
Being a Terrible Awful No Good Very Bad Mommy, I assume he’s lost it. “I guess you can ask Ms. C— for a new one tomorrow,” I comment, probably in a less than friendly manner.
Baxter thinks about it a moment. “Wait! Mommy! What time is it? If it’s before 7, Ms. C— said we can call her with homework questions!”
The shy student in me comes out and I cringe at the idea of having to call the teacher about my son’s missing homework. I try to figure out how to get out of this.
Turns out I have nothing to worry about.
Before I know it, he has the phone and is dialing her number. “Hello, Ms. C—? It’s Baxter. I can’t find my math worksheet. Did you give us one today?”
I stand before him, dumbfounded. Did I mention that he’s six?
“Okay. Thanks! Bye!” he says cheerfully, closing the conversation. Turning to me, he says, “It’s fine, she forgot to give them to us.”
Parenthood is nothing if not humbling.