Some thoughts for this lovely Friday. Mostly regarding underwear and bears.
This week the kids went together to a mixed-age summer camp at Beatty’s old preschool. This was a great success – even with Sloan in her brand-new big girl panties at her first ever “school” experience. No accidents! Except…yesterday. I knew shit might go down because she hadn’t pooped in two days, so I warned the teacher and tried to explain to Sloan that she needed to ask for a diaper if she didn’t want to go in the toilet.
So…Sloan has a small accident with the poopage that was building up. And since she will NOT let the teacher get near her to help her potty, Beatty had to step up to the plate. He took Sloan to the bathroom, cleaned her up, put her shorts back on her, then went and asked the teacher for a plastic bag for her dirty underwear. The teacher was amazed that a 7-year old brother would do this for his little sister. AMAZED.
My heart swelled. Because Beatty quite often doesn’t do things he doesn’t like. But he stepped up to the plate to help out his little sister. He had her back, man.
I like that.
Sloan and I talked again this morning about the potty and pooping versus peeing and sitting down versus putting on a diaper. We had this little discussion while she was modeling her new pretty underpants, which she likes to show everyone.
She sort of gave me that look that said screw you and then answered “YEAH” when I asked her to please not poop in her pants.
Then I asked her if she would please wipe the breakfast off her face. She can do this very easily – no napkin needed! She inherited my tongue, you know.
Maybe in our past lives Sloan and I were dogs. Which would be funny, not funny ha-ha, but funny weird because I don’t own a dog and I don’t really think I want to own a dog. Brad is constantly berating me for this, claiming that I am stunting my children’s emotional development by not having a family dog around. Well. I’m sure that I’m doing many more horrible things that are stunting their emotional growth. So I figure they can grow up and get ten damn dogs if they like.
Piper will need to put on her big girl panties soon because we are supposed to go camping. It’s not that I’m a bad camper. I’M NOT. I swear. But these friends want to go camping about an hour outside of Park City, and there have been all these bear sightings around Park City lately. Like bears wandering around people’s YARDS. That is not where a bear is supposed to be hanging out.
Since we will be intruding on the real hang-out spots for the bears, I told Brad that we should make sure we are very careful with our food and storage when we do go camping. I also had to point out that we would probably be camping near a river, and what if that was closer to the bears because there might be fish in there??
Then Brad told me that black bears don’t eat fish. So I asked him if they just ate people instead. He sort of shook his head and looked at me and explained they are foragers, like they hunt around for berries or whatever. But I bet you that maybe, just maybe, SOME black bears forage for PEOPLE. Which is not cool.
Thank god we have a pop-up camper. I can sit in there and drink gin and chant anti-bear rhymes.
So now I’m just curious and a little concerned that a person who is scared of bears puts off this bear-vibe attraction thing…and ends up with the bears in her campsite dancing around because that is the last thing she wants to see?? Perhaps I can shoo them away with a few beer cans and a stereo that is blasting the Little River Band. Full beer cans, of course.
I’m pretty sure the bears will be happier and more sedated if they are intoxicated.
I was also thinking that I can avoid washing my hair for at least six days before we leave. I figure the stench could possibly help me ward off any bears who might be tempted to get near our campsite. Thoughts?