I told Ali that she needed to pick up her puzzle.
“Mommy, will you help me clean up this big mess?”
“No, baby. I didn’t make the big mess.”
I leave the room.
Ali begins picking up puzzle, while bitterly mumbling, “But MOMMY made a big mess when she dropped Gramamma’s pretty eggs.”
For the record, that happened three months ago.
Not that she’s bitter or anything.
I head to the bathroom.
She follows, of course.
“Do you have to tee-tee or poo-poo, Mommy?”
“I have to tee-tee.”
“No, I think you have to poo-poo. I’ll help you.”
(She sits down in front of me, pulls her knees up to her chest, and starts rocking back and forth, leaning forward, and straining to the point that her face turns red and I’m worried about what’s going to happen at HER back end.)
In a very purple voice, she strains, “Puuuuuush, Mommy. Puuuuuush. Puuuuuuush!!!! You can do it!!!”
(I look at her, amused.)
(She changes the subject, apparently trying to help pass the time…) “So, what have your dreams been about lately, Mommy?”