I was having a shower this morning when Miss6 wandered into the bathroom to use the toilet.
I’d already endured a sudden change in water temperature when her little sister did the same thing a few minutes earlier. Miss3 had pointed at my crotch and said, “Dat’s your doodle. I don’t want to see dat.”
In this house we have one toilet, one bath, one shower, one bathroom sink, two washing machines and one dryer, and they’re all in the one room.
So now it was Miss6’s turn to talk at me through the shower glass.
First she told me a rip roaring story about how she was playing and styling Grandma’s hair before changing the subject to Miss18: a topic which obviously came to mind because she was sitting on the loo while I was washing myself.
“She didn’t like it when I had to go to the toilet while she was in the shower,” she told me. “She’d always say ‘look the other way!’ and ‘don’t look at me!’ and ‘shut the door!'” As I stepped out from the shower to dry myself I was feeling more than a little empathy with Miss18. “But I would always peek and not get caught,” Miss6 went on to tell how Miss9 wasn’t very good at peeking. “She would get caught every time.” And she showed me the correct way to sneak a peek at someone in the shower which, until I wrote it down just now I didn’t realize how more than a little creepy that might sound.
Twenty minutes later our three school kids were in the car and we were rocketing down the road for a drop off. Suddenly the wheels came off. Metaphorically.
“I forgot my Show & Tell!” Miss6 screamed at me from the back seat.
This was the worst possible news for me because I was, as always, running late and Miss6 is the least soothable of all our children.
“Are you sure its your day?”
“YEEESSS!” she cooed.
“We need to go back!”
“-we think of something-”
“Turn the car around! Daddy, pleeeeeease! You have to!”
“-for you to tell the class instead of show them?”
There was a pause.
“No! Daddy, go home. Go home. Go home!”
I reiterated my decision to not turn the car around and told her to think of a funny story to tell. She told me she had nothing.
“Only this morning you were telling me a funny story in the bathroom,” I told her. “Why don’t you use that one?”
Can you guess which story she chose to tell the class? I’ll give you a hint, it had nothing to do with Grandma’s hair.
Like Miss6’s efforts at school, I have a feeling there might be more Tell than Show when our next parent-teacher meeting rolls around.
When not typing away over here and checking his stats every two minutes Bruce Devereaux hangs out at his ‘BIG FAMILY little income’ Facebook Page.
’raising a family on little more than laughs’