The other morning I was having a shower when I hear from the living room...
"no No NO! Oh Shaylaaaa!"
I try and keep real quiet like maybe he'll forget I'm actually in the house and just change the poopy diaper himself. Oh right... she wasn't wearing a diaper! Oooooooh. I am getting ready to jump out of the shower to lock the bathroom door... cause sometimes in parenting or just marriage in general you get the uncontrollable urge to help your spouse push through their fears... marriage: all about being UNSELFISH! ;) This was one of those times.
But damn I was too late! I heard him open the bathroom door.
He poked his head around the shower curtain, "Holy crap, you should see the mess your daughter made... it's everywhere!"
"Well what the hell, are you just letting her play in her own poop? Clayton... we KNOW how that goes... or should I say WHERE that goes!!!"
"No no it's not poop." And he shows me his hand, which is covered in that white googy Penaten cream.
"Oh that'll be even more fun to clean up!"
"Yeah, so you better hurry up and finish your shower..."
"If you think..."
"Hey, hey, I'm kidding, geez!"
And he leaves me in peace to finish my shower.
Although when I get out of the shower I notice four large white sticky Penaten finger prints on the soft fabric shower curtain, just as Clayton is walking into the room saying how Shayla got it everywhere.
I look at him and say, "And so you thought you'd add to it." Gesturing towards the fingerprints.
"NO! That was Shayla too!"
Sure Clayton... four large, distinctly separate finger prints, about five feet up the curtain... right at the spot where you peaked your head in to talk to me... un huh... right Shayla did it!
Moral: You can always blame it on the kid!