All I wanted last evening was to enjoy my kids and some good politics (the term good and politics are NOT usually synonymous) and let us say I received half of each yesterday evening. J. picked me up from work with Aidan in tow and told me that Obama had paid ooooodles of moolah for a primetime spot on all the major tv channels. Boy was I filled with excitement at the possiblity of seeing his shining face, an adult face-rather than Dora the Explorer or The Backyardigans on NOGGIN types that typically hound my television screen in the pm before bedtime comes for the littles. Pizza leftovers popped into the oven and there I was before the screen, Obama's wide eyed face in mine when...whammo! Aidan pee pees in his pajamas at the dinner table.
Obama and his political quips continued while screams ensued, by way of my hubby who was mostly in shock and utter horror over the puddles that had amassed all the way from our kitchen to the small powder room that houses close to 50 crosses. Pathetic as it is, I tried to continue watching his "Obama infomercial," all while my son sobbed in the toilet. "Accidents happen. Bummer, dude," is some of what I mumbled to him as I tried to hear Obama speaking to middle class Suzie homemaker types (those who will probably already be voting for him). I know it's selfish and this being, in my husband's words "an awful situation," but I felt that I needed to grab this moment with my tv and seize the political day. The pee pee incident had taken over everyone's evening and shadowed over Obama and all of his evening glory.
I walked myself into the small yellow bathroom, after having wiped up the pee pee trail of footprints, wiped my son's tears away and told him that despite having seen only half of the Obama tv special, I love him and it'll all be okay. No pullups necessary.
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