I was in the shower when Caleb's chubby, 3-year old arm whipped open the shower curtain. He eyed me up and down and asked in an incredulous tone, "what are you doing?"
"I'm taking a shower," I replied as I rolled my eyes because we have this same conversation every time I shower.
Caleb then pulls forward his other arm. On this arm, shoved up past his elbow, is the 'ball popper' toy. The ball popper, when used properly, uses a small vacuum engine to suck plastic balls in one end and then shoot them out the top. The balls land in a collection tray, wind down to the bottom, and are sucked back in. This is how it's suppose to work, anyway. In reality, I have only ever seen children shove cars, blocks, and hamsters down the top and then get their arms stuck while trying to get the items back out.
After a few tugs I realized he was good and stuck. So, I wrapped a towel around myself and fetched the cooking oil. Back in the bathroom, I was lubricating Caleb's arm with the oil when Anderson burst through the door doing a wild rendition of the potty dance. He managed to get his pants down and the seat up in time. And, his aim was mostly acurate until he noticed what we are doing. "Twist your arm, Caleb. Pull, Caleb, pull!" he shouted as pee splattered all over the walls.
I realized, at that moment, that this was one of those defining moments in motherhood. Me: dripping wet, shampoo still in my hair, and a towel wrapped around my body; Caleb: lathered in canola oil, elbow deep in the ball popper; and Anderson: pants down, pee flying everywhere, calling out encouragement.
The arm came out and I finished my shower. And, I must admit to you all that it wasn't until now that I remembered that I still need to wipe up the pee. Oops! Oh well...I think we did pretty well.
