all images © Meghan Boyer Photography

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Utterly Disgusting and Inappropriate Things. What Would Jesus Do?

I find myself doing utterly disgusting and inappropriate things on a daily basis.  Like today.  I found one of Grady's used and discarded socks, on the floor, turned inside out.  I wiped Dempsey's nose with it, turned it right side in, put in on Dempsey's foot, and then put his shoe on.

I don't always wash my hands after changing dirty diapers.  And after I pee or poop.  My skin is dry.  And well, I just forget.  And then someone is breaking something.  There.  I said it.  Don't peace me at Mass anymore.  I'm sure your germs are way worse than mine anyway.  And while you're at it, stop with the lame, dead fish handshake.  Jesus wouldn't approve.  What would Jesus do?  He would shake like he's never shaken before.  Regardless of the poop stains.  He's a strong guy after all.  He had nails driven through his hands.  Suck it up.  You'll survive.

Lillian peed in her shorts at basketball practice tonight.  I did notice the clenched legged, potty dance under the basketball hoop.  But I never thought it would happen to my girl.  The one that put on underpants one day and never looked back.   Over two years ago. 

The coach called for a water break.  I followed my player.  Her water break had already happened.  Jesus.  Stop laughing.  It's not funny.

I took her to the bathroom.  Her shorts and underwear were soaked.  I did what any disturbed mother would do.  I told her to finish peeing and put the shorts back on.  No one would notice. 
Everyone has colds these days.  They won't smell it either.  I'm pretty sure that's what Jesus would have done.  Lillian didn't agree.  So I did something inappropriate.  I attempted to trade her pee shorts with Grady's fresh ones.  I scooped him up and pulled his shorts down.  His penis popped out.  Someone forgot his underwear.  He screamed.  He hollered.  I yanked.  It wasn't working.  He was holding on for dear life.  "These are boy shorts!" he exclaimed.  Then Dempsey dipped his hands in some unflushed poop water and  threw our consignment shop basketball against the stall door.   I huddled the ball in one hand and wrangled Demspey with the other.  Then I slipped and fell.  Probably on pee.  I was handless, sprawled onto a floor that was dirtier than a peace hand.  I had two pantless kids and another one elbow deep in poop.   My jig was up.  This would not have happened to Jesus.

Like any fabulous mom, I initially had two plans of action. An A plan.  And a B plan.  Plan A.  Switch shorts and have Grady wear pee soaked bottoms for Lillian's last fifteen minutes of practice.  Hide him on the sidelines and pray to Jesus.  Plan B.  Give Lillian Grady's dry shorts.  Carry Grady out to van in underwear and re clothe him in one of the multiple outfits that Jesus had left in our van for these moments of despair.  Thank you Jesus.   But you forgot the underwear this morning.  I'm going to discuss this with your father.

I ended up with Plan C.  Lillian's plan.  It makes too much sense and isn't the least bit entertaining, so I won't even tell you about it.

Dear God,

Please help me.  Did Jesus ever pee his pants?  And what did you do?  Text me back. 


Mom of the Triple Threat

Oh no I didn't.

Um, yea, I did.

We all wear the same clothes.  Interchangable when we pee our pants.  Rock on Conor.

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