I took Daniel, a friend and my hypochondriac (this time she is almost dying from a throat infection) Mother to a puppet show yesterday morning. I declined a very important meeting because I promised myself that I would take him.
The previous night he drove us nuts as he was crying in his sleep and eventually we figured out that he must be constipated. (Ok, it might have something to do with the fact that he pointed at his bum when I asked where the “eina” was.) So, every time he woke up I shoveled some Homeopathic constipation stuff down his throat and that seemed to work. We don’t normally have a problem with this, so I actually had no idea what to do.
Yesterday morning the “problem” persisted, and Mister refused to drink the Movicol I had tried to sneak in in his juice.
So, clearly I was sleep deprived and Daniel was in a bad mood.
We get to the hall and he goes into pathetic mode and starts whimpering and complaining and eventually I had him on my lap. We then get lectured by this crazy old lady about how we should keep our children quiet and it only takes one misbehaved child to ruin it for all the other children warra warra warra. It was crazy. About 5 minutes into the show D says loudly, as only kids can do: “Mamma, Mamma ek moet piepie!” I then try to leopard crawl to the toilet at the back of the hall where he proceeds to shriek at me for trying to take him to the toilet . WTF?? Drama Queen.
After the third repeat of this and a loudly whispered conversation with another mommy friend I had run into we made an escape. Geez, don’t think I’ll be doing that anytime soon..
I was meant to go to work after lunch, but by 11h30 I was in the car on the way to the office. I then sat in peace and quiet in my office for the rest of the day. It was great.
I dared to phone home and was informed that he finally sorted himself out, but didn’t make it to the toilet, so the bathroom floor got the brunt of it. Shame, but as hubby said: rather out than in.