* * * * *
I stopped dead in my tracks. Definitely not because I don't think I'm awkward, but rather, I didn't remember teaching him about angels. (Dammit. Catechism. Need catechism books this year. One more thing for the budget.)
"What did you say to me?"
Guarded, but firm, "Even your angel thinks you're awkward."
"What does this mean? What angel?" I played along.
"Well, we learned at church that everyone has a guardian angel and yours probably thinks you're weird."
I slumped my shoulders and sighed. "Eh, Coop, that's just one more, eh, 'being' to think so."
I turned the music back up.
I have been (trying to? attempting to? pretending to?) potty train Maximus. This has not been easy. At. all. But at least he's gotten on the pot. Since he's on the big pot... because Lola took over the little one... it's important we keep the bathroom quiet (as far as the Awesome Abode allows) so I can hear if he potties. I explained to him, "Shh... listen for the 'tinkle, tinkle, tinkle'!"
When Daddy got home that night... and Max was again on the toilet... I said, "Tell Daddy what your potty says!"
"Drip. Drip. Drip."
All I could think was "ouch."