stuff my kid says

We were invited to a flurry of holiday parties between Christmas and New Years'. Most of the parties are scheduled during those tedious bedtime hours, so we declined the majority of invitations. One afternoon, though, Sam had napped well and I was feeling particularly cocky confident, so while Joe put ND to bed that night, I loaded up Sam and joined my mom at an open house.

There were few, if any, kids there, but Sam did fairly well. He played with the Nativity set and looked at books. I had to remind him about nice manners a few times, but over all, things went well.

Of course, just when you feel like you have things under control, that's when the wheels fall off the bus.

I was visiting with a woman I'd grown up with and see about once a year when Sam keeps trying to talk to me. I turn to him and remind him, "When you want to talk, you say, Excuse me, Mom. And then you wait your turn."

Sam: Excuse me, Mom. Excuse me, Mom. Excuse me, MOM!!

Me: (turning from my conversation, a little exasperated): What, Sam?

Sam: I'm itchy.

Me: Ok. We'll go home soon and put on some lotion. (turn back to my conversation).

Sam: I'M ITCHY!

Me: Wait a minute, Sam. I'm almost done.

Sam: I'M ITCHY! MY BUTT IS ITCHY! I THINK YOU DIDN'T DO A GOOD JOB WIPING ME AND THERE IS SOME FLAT POOP STILL IN THERE, MOM!

Everyone in close proximity stops talking and looks at us.

Me: (pause. Turning back to my conversation). Um, ok. So, uh, good talking to you. We're, um, going to go now.

I think my new policy is going to be to decline all holiday invitations, but I'm really not sure we're going to be invited back next year.

For the record, I did an excellent job wiping him and there was absolutely no "flat poop" remaining. It was, as usual, his eczema. It's the Filipino-mother in me that makes me have to tell you this.