Attack of the Lint

Our change table is in our laundry room, off of our kitchen. It's a handy location. I never have to run up and down stairs to change a diaper. Or to change the children's clothes. Despite the fact that each child has a dresser in their bedroom, no clothes are actually kept there. All of the children's clothes are kept on the change table. For my convenience.

This morning, I had taken Sarah into the laundry room to get her dressed. She noticed that on top of the dryer was a rectangular clump of dark blue/blacky lint. She had no idea what it was (because I am such a good housekeeper that my child, in her 2 1/2 years, has never seen lint), and she mistook it for "poop".

I giggled and informed the child that I, typically, prefer not to leave poop on the dryer. I picked it up and said, "It's lint. Here, look!". Sarah went ballistic and backed away from me. I said, "It's soft, like a Fluffy (what we call Katie's cotton balls)" and then I tickled my cheek. Sarah was horrified!

I thought if Sarah could just touch the lint, she would understand. This is a "Teaching Moment", or whatever they're called. But the closer I inched towards her, the further she would move backwards.

Then, I got annoyed. I just wanted her to feel the lint. I don't know why. I thought that she might like it. But she refused!

So, naturally, I make a quick dive towards Sarah, caught her, and started rubbing the lint on her belly...kinda tickling her. Sarah responded by screaming and running as fast as her little legs could take her away from me. Because she thought I was trying to smush poop all over her body! But I wasn't! It was just lint. I chased after her. Waving the lint in front of me. Making serious attempts to catch her. While shouting, "IT'S NOT POOP!".

The twins, not having witness the lead up, only saw Sarah shooting past them while crying, and me chasing her with the "poop". Bethie, not in the least bit fazed and not even looking away from the TV (!), said, "Why are you chasing the baby with poop?"

I stopped. Why was I chasing the child with what she believed to be poop? I don't know why I was doing it. Things just kinda went badly. But I said to Bethie, "Because, with the school bus being only minutes away from arriving, and no one being anywhere near ready-to-go, I guess I thought I would have a little fun". Bethie response? "Oh". In Bethie's five year old brain, she thought that it was plausible that I would chase the baby with poop for my own amusement. Really, kid?!

Wanna know how I responded? I went up to Bethie and tickled her with the lint/poop. Turns out that I do antagonize children for my amusement. And, boy, was it fun!