Thursday, November 8, 2012

Fishing for fishies

I'd like to say that the reason I haven't posted in months is that my ball of trouble is no longer trouble; however, that is not the case.  I've thought about posting often, but haven't been able due to terminally ill parents.  Well, we're back.  I'm hoping I can get to my storytelling again and make you all feel better about your lives.  Here goes.

Tonight I went to my first support group meeting for parents of children with disabilities.  I have never ever had a desire to do such a thing, but it was the first night and I volunteered our church to host it, so I figured I'd better go.  It was actually a good night, and the most repeated comment was "I just want to be somewhere where other people 'get it'.  That I can tell them what my kid is doing and they won't judge me".  I'm so glad there is a safe place for them to do that, and I promise I won't be telling you any of their stories.  It's ironic that as soon as I get home from my first support group meeting, with people who just want to be around other moms who "get it", that my sweet monster gave me another notch on my belt.  Seriously people--you can't make this stuff up.

I come home and Aaron is still awake (it's 10:30 PM mind you).  He has confiscated my laptop and is in his bedroom with a bowl of goldfish crackers watching one second of a YouTube clip of Baby Neptune over and over and over...obviously it's late and it's time for him to go to bed, so being the responsible parent that I am, I tell him it's bedtime.  The next two minutes unfold like this.

Me: "Aaron, it's time to go to bed.  Let's go potty and brush your teeth."  We walk to the bathroom.  Stop reading right now if you have a weak stomach. 

Let me first quickly back up.  Aaron has been neglecting to pay attention and "aim" while he's going to the bathroom, so we've had to back up and actually follow him into the bathroom and give him the direction "pay attention".  Seriously?  He's 11. 

Anyhow.  We walk to the bathroom and he's carrying his bowl of fish crackers.  He walks up to the toilet and I go to take the bowl of goldfish crackers from him as he's standing over the toilet.  He won't let go of them so I say to myself "fine, he can hold them, it's not that big of a deal".  True to the way we roll in this house, he accidentally drops the entire bowl into the toilet.  I was on top of my game (or so I thought), so I immediately grab the bowl out of the toilet (thankfully he hadn't actually started going yet) and flush it because I know what was going to happen and I didn't want him grabbing fish crackers out of the toilet.  As the fishies are going down the drain, he decides he going to help them on their journey by peeing on them.  Fine.  Well...ummmm....this is the part where I'm not on top of my game.  He grabs the bowl he dropped into the toilet (that I had put on the tank) and drinks the toilet water that was left in it!  I'm grossed out, and calmly rip it out of his hands and say "gross"!  I know, I know, you're not supposed to react--but COME ON!   You know how the toilet bowl drains, and then fills back up again?  The toilet fills back up and some of the fishies come back naturally he reaches into the toilet to grab them out TO EAT THEM!  NASTY!  I was able to grab his hand after he stuck it in the water, but before he was able to get one of those fishies in his hot little hands.  I'm standing there helpless.  I've got a toilet water contaminated bowl in one hand, Aaron's hand in my other hand, and I can't flush the toilet again because it's still filling back up with water!  Aaron is trying to squirm out of my death grip to grab the crackers, and I'm rattling the handle to get those suckers down!  Needless to say, I got him out of there, had him wash his hands, brush his teeth and off to bed!  It took FOUR flushes before the toilet was free and clear of the crackers.

And THAT is how I ended my day! 

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