Sometimes you CAN handle the truth: It’s just too gross … and depressing.

My two-year-old is in an “I’ll follow you everywhere, mommy” stage. It’s not separation anxiety: She’s perfectly happy to run off and not even wave good-bye to me at pre-preschool drop-off. It’s more the, “If we’re in the same house, it’s not good enough that I can hear you” stage. She wants to see my eyes at all time to make sure I’m paying attention to her, like when she’s picking her nose, adopting my Elaine-like dance moves, or just being her sweet little self.

Which is why it was not surprising when she followed me — having just finished a cup of my husband’s highly-leaded coffee — when I needed to see a man about a wallaby this morning. (Confused? Haven’t watched Finding Nemo three-hundred-and-one times? Then see my previous work of literary genius: .)


What WAS surprising was that my usually unintelligible two-year-old followed me and then shrieked, clear as day “What is that awful smell mommy?” Yeah… like hers smell like roses. Not.

The Truth No One Tells You About Children #10606: You will never use the bathroom in peace again without a toddler present in the already small loo, a small child standing right outside the door screaming for milk, or a teenager demanding undeserved money and car keys. You will never use the bathroom in peace again unless 1) you save all your wallabies for while the children are in grammar school, 2) they are out wasting all your hard-earned money at a $25,000/year college getting a liberal arts degree, or 3) they are, again, wasting all your money in the rent-free apartment you set them up in at age eighteen (bribing them to move out so you could, once again, relive your child-free days by using the bathroom in peace and perhaps even have uninterrupted sex if your equipment is still working by then).

See… I can do it too, Jim Gaffigan! Please, somebody give me a book deal!


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