After pretending to eat 126 different combinations of various play food (after working my ass off at the condo all day again), I finally had to put my foot down:
Ashley: No more please.
Big Kid: Here's your apple samwich.
Ashley: No apple sandwich for me thanks. I'm feeling pretty full after all of that other food.
Big Kid: Hmmm. Maybe you need to poop.
Ashley: No thanks, I'm fine.
Big Kid: If your tummy is full and you need more room, all you gotta do is go poop. Otay? (reaches hand around to my butt and makes a grabbing motion with his hand)
Ashley: What are you doing?
Big Kid: I'm just getting some poop out, dat's all. Hold on a sec.
Ashley: That's gross, don't do that.
Big Kid: Don't worry mudder, I will frow it in da twash and wash my hands when I'm all done.
Big Kid: And then you will eat some more samwiches.
Did I tell you that the Jews got him sick? I knew they would, sooner or later. But they had to go and do it this week, the week of parent night at school and two playdates. I've been completely isolating myself in real life lately and finally accepted an invite to a former girl crush's (I'm pretty sure we love each other now and are true friends, even if I am hard to get a hold of) playdate Tuesday and a playdate/baby shower combo for some other woman I really like on Thursday, but no, my kids have green goopy snot. This also probably means no school tomorrow which is a major bummer for everyone involved. Thanks a lot Jews.
Right now Big Kid's legs are tied together (I did that) and he's slithering across the floor like a snake and making me pretend to be scared. I'm really tired. I just want to scream in annoyance, not in fake terror at a tied up 4 year old slinking along hissing.
Please let bedtime come soon.