It is Sunday which means FOOTBALL! The Pats have the Monday night game this week so I have to settle for the Redskins game today. Since they are not in the same league as the Pats (yes that was intentional) I can root for them right up until the day they meet the Pats in the Super Bowl at which point the gloves come off and my darling husband and I fight over who has to move into the guest bedroom. That day is not here yet so we continue to yell and scream at the TV, willing the Skins to take Vick out (which they just did) and give McNabb a glorious return to the City of Brotherly Love (the gesture I have in mind is neither brotherly nor loving).
The first touchdown had Little Man mimicking his daddy perfectly: "Come on baby! Go baby, go! YEAH TOUCHDOWN!"
Little Man does a lovely impersonation of the Heisman Trophy. Unfortunately he then yells "SPIDERMAN" and bolts so when the 2nd touchdown occured, John decided to teach him how to spike the ball. Actually John told him to spike it. I was the brilliant parent that showed him how. We'll see what Karma has in store for me on that one.
There is nothing better than Sunday football with a 2/5 year-old aper. Right now I choose to live in the moment enjoying his antics hoping they will eventually erase yesterday from my brain cells.
Before I get to that - Redskins kicking off and the ball falls off the.... the.... the.... I've been watching this game for how many years? One of my many nicknames is? I'm freaking brilliant.
OK so back to yesterday. Thankfully I did not actually witness this event though even just hearing about is enough to scar me for life.
Have you seen the carpet cleaner add? The one where the child calls for mommy to witness Spot's new trick? The new trick which consists of Spot dragging his but across the carpet?
Swap the carpet for not just my bed but my side of the bed.
Little Man called and called to daddy yesterday but we thought he was procrastinating taking his nap. After while John decided to check. While not exactly great timing on his part, it could have been much worse.
"Daddy I poopy".
Half the pullup was pulled off. Most was still in the pullup. What wasn't was on my side of the bed. At least he didn't do this when I had the white sheets on the bed.
And at least he didn't decide to finger paint.
At least I keep telling myself at least. I have to remind myself that while gross, it could be so much grosser; however, that is one theory I have no desire to test so we will leave it right there.
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