|Posted by Nicole on May 16, 2011 at 11:32 AM|
You can’t make this stuff up. I realize this has happened to most of you parents at some point, but it seems to get more absurd with every inch he sprouts upward.
2:45pm (Note the late afternoon time stamp and imagine this scenario repeated at least 10 times between when he woke up in his undies at 8am and now). “Aiden, go upstairs and put pants on. For the love of Pete, put some pants on.”
Smooch stumbles up the stairs and it’s quiet for quite some time. So long, in fact, that we yell up, “Aiden? Are you okay?” to which he replies, “Ah-gee.” So he is not seizing, and we resume our respective activities.
“Mom! I ngee hep.” As usual, he can’t find his pants. Though they’ve been on the same shelf for 8 months, right at his reach. The closet door is even open for him. I don’t understand why this task continues to elude him.
“Just put some pants on, Honey. They can even be jammy pants.”
Silence. For another 5 minutes at least.
“Aiden? Are you okay?” Silence. “Aiden, ARE YOU OKAY?” Silence. Andy and I simultaneously bound up the stairs. Instead of him lying in a heap on the floor as we’re expecting, we find this:
Note Big Brother's MP3 player, a prized item not usually within his reach. And the complete lack of pants.
You just can’t make this stuff up.
Categories: April-June 2011