“I’m gonna go poop.”
Okay, visiting 4 year old friend. You just go ahead. And wash your hands. And flush the toilet. It’s bad enough when my own from-my-loins children don’t flush. I really cannot handle stranger poop hanging out in my toilet.
Normally, my youngest daughter has exactly one friend. Heidi. They are a very exclusive club and have frequently embarrassed me when I’ve tried to broaden their friend horizons. “But we just wanted to play by ourselves,” they once said in front of Guest Number 3. When Heidi’s mom told them they needed to be nice to Allison, they said, “We were. We said we were glad she wasn’t at school today. She annoys us.” They are Borg, but you will not be assimilated. In fact, you will not even be allowed to revolve in the same circle.
But this particular friend is different. He’s Nathan and she’s been asking for a playdate with him for, not kidding, 7 months. Okay, so Heidi is her only friend largely due to my inertia, not just her own proclivity. But one month before school is out, I’m finally coming around.
Nathan is currently singing to himself, by the way. He’s also banging on the wall and the sink. Quite a rockin‘ song in the bathroom. Must remember to Lysol.
Here’s the thing about playdates with friends who haven’t come over before. My children and their friends know that they are limited to one junky drink and one junky treat. They can eat all the fruits and veggies they want, without asking, but if there are cookies, they’ve got to ask. Mainly because I want to make sure I get my share, but also because I love little sweet-tooth kids and don’t want to send them home sick to their stomachs. But new friends don’t know the rules. So new kids drink lots of juice bags and sneak lots of cookies and run upstairs during Nap Time and wake up Sleeping Beast and yell really loud and dive bomb over my new couches and jump on cushions and and and
Deep breath. New friends are a good thing. New friends become old friends who know rules. New friends are sweet and hold doors open because they are boys and have good manners. New friends may be afraid of bees (bees? Suck it up and be a BOY!) but new friends also love my daughter and that’s worth a little poop smell all over my house.
Excuse me now. I’m going to Lysol.