Early in the morning, the man scooped up the boy, I put a blanket over him as he blinked blearily at us, and he was stuffed into the car for a trip to the pedodontics.
This seems like an unfortunate thing to have to put on a sign over your business.
But not too bad, right? Maybe dentistry is fun!
No. It isn't. But the infink did not need to be velcro-wrapped into the "burrito", because he is stoic and awesome. Suck it, mom of the 4 year-old who got trussed to the table! I win!*
So at the expense of my poor tic tac-toothed child, I had a few hours to myself in the morning before work, which happens so rarely that I stood in the livingroom trying to figure out what the hell it was that I always wanted to do with some spare time. Prepped some pies, threw in some towels with perfume-free laundry soap so as not to kill my mother when she arrives, and then tried to get the pee smell out of the floor.
The pee smell.
I bought a little bag of M&Ms to bribe the infink into using the potty (which could have had something to do with his dental woes - had he actually earned any) and it is clear that a further bag of Dove chocolate or mini liquor bottles will be necessary to bribe the man into directing the infink to the effing potty. Or at the very least, steer him away from the couch, the rug, or the computer - which small angry penises can point at when dad is refusing to let their owners bang on the keyboard. The computer is now in the shop, the mac nerds scratching their heads as to why the insides smell funny since it just "up and died for no reason which in any way disqualifies our warranty", and we are tinkering away on a whirring old beast that likes to quit applications and shut down at random. I got onto my knees and sniffed out the spot on the floor that reeked, spritzed enzyme cleaner on it, stared at the spatter of bubbles for a moment, and then twisted off the cap and dumped the rest of the bottle out onto the rug. Take that, floor.
*I'm so sorry.
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