Really, I do...

- Mama?
- Yes pet?
- MAAAMMMMA?
- [Sigh.] Yes pet?
- What are you doing?
- Getting ready for bed. Now go to sleep
- But what are you doing?
- Getting ready for bed.
- Are you in your jammies?
- No, not yet.
- What are you doing?
- [Sigh heavily.] Never you mind.
- What MAAAMMMA? WHAT ARE YOU DOING?
- I’m going to the bathroom.
- Are you having a pee or a poo?
- Never you mind. It doesn’t matter.
- Is it a pee Mama or a poo?
Now, none of you, including Topher need to know this. But he is like a dog with a bone, so after debating with myself the evils of lying versus the evils of telling him the truth, I tell the truth. Suffice to say, you don’t really need to know.
- Now Mama? Right now you are?
- Well, no, unfortunately, not right now.
- When Mama?

Apparently, never again, or only once you have left home for university. Suffice to say during the last week we have had Topher into the children’s hospital twice, once for surgery and then back to emergency when he spent 3 hours clutching his side and telling us how it hurt inside. Upon arrival at the emergency room, he announced he was going to hop all the rest of the way and spent his time in triage catapulting over the filthy furniture. Needless to say, we called it a night shortly after. We’ve also gone through one antique chair, two toy school buses, one pair of size 4 boy jeans, and about 27 litres of milk.

I lovemyboysIlovemyboysIlovemyboysIlovemyboys. Really.