This is my daughter, Madison. She’s three years old. Isn’t she cute?
Just two nights ago, Madison went to being fully potty-trained. She’s been ready for a while, but two nights ago she gave up pull-up diapers and made it through the night. i can tell you I’ve seldom been so proud. We even removed the child-proof door-handle cover so she could let herself out in the middle of the night to use the bathroom if needed.
That turned out to be a mistake.
Last night (night two) my wife and I were downstairs watching a movie when I heard Madison walking around upstairs. It’s happened before in the course of potty training, that we’ve left the door open in the case of a late night emergency, only to have her roam around the house like she owned the place.
I went up and found her settling into the toy basket. When she saw me she had this look on her face like she knew she was out of line but wasn’t sure if she would be punished.
“What are you doing, Madison?” I asked. Plain as day, she replies “I’m playing around.”
I explained that she could leave here room only to go to the bathroom. I though, why would I expect a 3 year old to check themselves in this way? I asked her if she needed to go before going back to bed, and she said yes.
When i took her upstairs and grabbed the bathroom door handle, I found it covered in….well.. Vaseline. Immediately I looked at our bedroom door and saw that the door was closed 9not how we left it) and the light was on (NOT how we left it!). When I went into our bedroom and then our bathroom, I saw all kinds of things out on the counter, including an open jar of fingernail polish. I called my wife for help and inspected Madison’s fingers for further evidence of the crime. How can you be upset when she’s playing a doing cute little girly things?
That question was answered, in part, when I noticed that far more polish ended up on the cabinets that on her fingers. Just after my wife arrived on the scene, I spotted the open jar of Vaseline. As I was turning to put her to bed, by wife spotted another tube of bathroom product on the counter. I questioned Madison, sternly, “Did you put this in your mouth?” to which she indicated “No.” So I discipline her, though lightly out of relief that nothing more serious happened, and put her to bed.
On my return to the crime scene, my wife observed that Madison had dipped a toothbrush…. Amy’s toothbrush… in the Vaseline. I racked my brain to determine whether poison control should be called, like the time she got into the Flintstone’s vitamins and ate about half of them along with some of a bottle of cough syrup. We agreed that there was no danger. But I had to go back into Madison’s room to question her one last time.
Now, at this point she’s been sternly warned and exhorted about the dangers of eating cortisone cream, lectured, spanked once, and put to bed. So when I come back into the room, she’s clutching the sheets under her chin and looking at me like “Uhh..are we not done?” I asked her, sternly “Did you brush your teeth with Vaseline?”
She just looked at me and said “No” so plainly and matter-of-factly that I could help but turn my head and laugh. I pulled myself together and finished my admonition, and walked out of the room.
I’ll spare you all of the spiritual ramblings that I might of gleaned from this. I hope that you enjoy this as much as I already enjoy my memories.
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