The Mini has become acutely more aware that Mama looks different when she’s naked. And by different, I mean saggy boobs and a nice pituitary apron that refuses to go away. No thanks to a certain child that shall remain nameless.
It all started innocently. I think we all drag our babies into the bathroom with us, so that we can shower properly and not disgust the rest of society with a pungent odor while perusing Target. One of the perks of having a child with a developmental delay (because I like to find the silver lining), is that I’ve had a baby for much longer than most. One that rarely showed curiosity in the normal toddler things, like knives, open flames and you know, breasts. But lately, he’s found it fascinating, and will spend his time equally running back and forth between Elmo and sliding the shower door open to say “hi” and cop a look. The other thing that’s become fascinating to him is exactly how the plumbing works, so to speak. We’ve got an open door policy in here when we’re peeing, mainly to keep an eye on the Mini, but also, it’s just pee and we really don’t see the big damn deal. And it used to be that he’d either slam all the cabinet doors, or do his own thing. Now, he’s like a car mechanic, trying to see exactly where that noise is coming from. I think it’s time to start closing the bathroom door.
I also think this kid is going to be really popular with the ladies in college. Especially with that whole shower routine.