Written by: Suzanna November 21 2011 Though it’s been drizzly […]
Written by: Suzanna November 21 2011
Though it’s been drizzly for the last few days here in Atlanta, chances are that you’re more likely to get wet inside my house than outside of it. Reason: My baby is a human sprinkler. And if you didn’t already guess it, the water doesn’t come from his mouth. Reason: My baby is a boy.
During a baby shower a few months back, my aunt gave me a card that said “Raising a boy is no day at the beach, but you will get wet.” Truer a word was never written, I’m sure. But, ironically, the first time I experienced the sprinkler effect, I wasn’t the one who ended up wet.
I was in the middle of changing Jacob when I got sidetracked for a second or two. When I looked back down, Jacob’s face was covered in a mysterious wet substance. Instantly, I went into Nancy Drew mode: “I could call this the ‘Phantom Rain Cloud Mystery!’ Then, I called to my husband to come see the strange phenomenon. When he walked in, he 1) burst out laughing and 2) ruined my hit book idea.
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Apparently, Jacob had managed to pee on his own face.
In response to the news, I did what any good mother would do:
I cleaned off his face right away I laughed. A lot. And since Jacob’s laughing reflexes won’t kick in for another month or two, Tom and I had no choice but to laugh at him rather than with him. Poor guy.
It was one of those priceless parent moments—almost as funny as the time a large boxer-type dog ran up to my tiny Havanese in the park, lifted his leg, and aimed right at my pup’s face. (I’m seeing a trend developing here.) Before you feel too sorry for him—Jacob, that is, not my dog—the laugh has been on us ever since.
For example, the other day, while Jacob was in the bathtub making goo-goo eyes at himself in the mirror—he’s a good-looking kid and he knows it—I had a feeling it happened again. Perhaps it was the sixth sense I’ve developed after six weeks of motherhood. Or perhaps it was the stream of water dripping down the mirror, off of the cabinet and onto my toes. Needless to say, he’s not the only one who got a bath that day.
Fortunately, Jacob hasn’t managed to pee on anything especially important—namely, either of OUR faces. Thanks to my cat-like reflexes, I usually manage to cover the stream with my hand just as quickly as it starts. Of course, ending up with a puddle of pee isn’t much better than ending up with a stream of it. (Proof that while cat-like reflexes may be quick, they’re not always intelligent.)
But, stream or puddle, I am always just a little bit amused. And, who knows, maybe someday, when he’s a bit older, I’ll miss those random showers and the ensuing outfit changes … and laundry … and hand washing. Or, on second thought, maybe not.