Last night I put Wubbzy to bed. I swear he was asleep. Thirty minutes later, he comes sauntering into the living room (more of a herky jerky swagger) and announces, “diaper change”. (dipe-da dane) He lays down for me to change him and I ask him, “Hanky, are you just tricking me?” “Yes,” he immediately answers and gives me a huge grin. Sure enough…his diaper was perfectly clean. Anything to get out of bedtime.
Today, the fifth day of school, we were late getting him ready and the bus was early. It showed up while I was still trying to get his shoes on and his mop of hair combed. He needs a haircut badly, but it’s something that Daddy Pence and I haven’t been able to bring ourselves to do. There is something about forty-five minutes of screaming (on Wubbzy’s part) and cussing (DP) that is just not that appealing. I did an OK job on the hair and started dragging him outside while he started crying. I put him on the bus with huge alligator tears streaming down his face. I could hear him crying/whaling as the bus roared away.