I Used To Be Dirrrty, But Now I’m Just Gross.
Being the creator and manager of two tiny humans sure is a nice gig. Most of the time. They are hilarious and adorable and really interesting individuals.
They are also surprisingly gross. And yeah, I get it. Childhood is about exploration and experimentation and discovery. It’s how they learn.
Trust me, I am one of those parents who doesn’t get get all worked up when my kids gets filthy outside by playing in the mud or splashing in puddles. I put paint out and let them paint their hair and arms and whatever.
But seriously, they do the grossest shit.
- Yesterday Buddy, who is currently a snot factory, came running over to me. “MOMMA! MOMMA!” Arms out, clearly needing me. So I reach my hands out to him and he dodges me, grabs my dress in his sticky little hands and wipes his snot fountain booger face all over it. Dude. There is a box of Kleenex on the counter and boxes of baby wipes every 10 feet in this house. Take your gross-a-thon somewhere else.
- While playing outside, the kids set up a tea party and while I think they are pretending, someone has collected the dirty meltwater from one area or another in the backyard and they are actually fucking drinking it.
- After dropping his freezie on the floor, Buddy picks up the pieces and tries to shove them back in the wrapper. For like 5 minutes, while the sticky juice is melting down his arms, until he finally gives up and starts sucking on it again. I mean, he didn’t even attempt to pick any dog hair off.
- While changing a shit-splosian diaper, Buddy jumps up and runs away from me. Because running away is extra fun when you have a shitty ass that you can press up against the walls in the bathroom.
- Seriously. The dog food eating has to stop.
And this was just in the last two days.
I can only imagine what disgusting things they did behind my back and are plotting for today.
Back when Destroyer was about 18 months old, and I was pregnant with Buddy, she was still a real puker. That baby puked at the drop of a hat. She puked when she cried. She puked when she got too full. She puked when she accidentally stuck a cheesecake lollipop down her throat too far while Bestie and I were trying to watch the Oscars.
And you know how I knew that I was definitely a “In It To Win It Parent”?
As she started puking over my freshly shampooed carpet ( thank you pregnancy nesting habits) I ran towards the puke and tried to catch it in my fucking hands. I would rather be covered in a tiny human’s vomit than have to scrub it out of a carpet.
So, I also am a filthy person. And not for the reasons you all wish. Those years are waaaayyyyy behind me. The only filthy thing that happens around here these days involves an bucket of soapy water and a puke stain on the carpet. There is nothing sexy left after having children.
Only Grossness. Tiny snot faucets and hairy popsicles and murky drinking water.