I also love top tens, fives, or whatever number lists too. It appeals to my listiness and my short attention span to give me the best (or worst) at a glance.
Well here is another for you, not conventional, but if you are a parent you will understand and may be able to add to it.
The Top Five Worst Places For Your Kid To Make the "Poop Face"
1. In a family heirloom, at a quiet moment, surrounded by microphones. Oh yes, every single person in my very large Catholic family on my mother's side has worn the same Christening gown, painstakingly and lovingly created by my great grandmother from her children on down. It is so delicate, so beautiful, so terrifying. So when Meatball's baptism was wrapping up and we were in the home stretch to getting that sucker off and back in the box with my aunt where I'd no longer have to worry about it being destroyed by myself or my progeny I was taking a sigh of relief thinking we were in the clear. Oh, no, not so lucky. Have you ever noticed that those adorable itty bitty newborns, with their itty bitty cute bodies that are ever so tiny can make flatulent noises that out-do Fat Bastard in Austin Powers? Well now have your little munchkin firing off a five minute symphony while on an alter surrounded by microphones. Lovely. The whole church was laughing, and I was dying, praying that those Huggies held up to the onslaught. For the record they did.
|Am I the only one a bit|
horrified with these commercials?
3. In their PJs, seconds from falling asleep. Are my children the only ones who do this? Oh man, I am so tired, I'd better take a poo first, cuz I can sleep so much better in a warm diaper. So standing over them in their ten-seconds-til-they're-out-state while they wrap up that package you have to give yourself the talk. No, it would be bad to leave them in that all night. Yes, it will probably wake them up and you will have to start the night time routine, complete with fifty-six readings of Good Night Moon and Fox in Socks, all over again. But it would be like a super-bad-mom-moment to leave them in that foul thing, even for a little while. They will have a nasty rash, sigh, lets do this. So I change them, and we start all over again. I swear, they do it on purpose.
4. In line to have your picture taken with the Santa at the mall. My oldest was only three months old for his first mall Santa picture. As a first time mom I was so exited and had this adorable little outfit picked out for him with overalls and little boots and socks and everything. Quite the adorable, if not thoroughly complicated ensemble. So after two hours of waiting in line and only five people away from the fat man in red himself, when the Meatball's face turned purple with effort, I was not going anywhere. Sorry Saint Nick, I would loose my place and have to start all over if I went to the nearest changing table and disrobed the intricate series of buttons, flaps and straps, untied the little fake hiking boots that this cute little outfit contained and reassembled the kid after a thorough decontamination. So when it was our turn, eyes watering, I marched up to a retiree who generously had donated his time, apologized and set my little stink bomb down on his knee. Kudos to that Santa, he took a deep breath through his mouth, said the suit was machine washable and smiled for the camera. I display that picture every year, and laugh whenever I see it.
|Ew, really now?!|
5. When you are getting professional, non seasonal, pictures taken. Competition among brothers can be intense. The Beans hosed his father quite thoroughly in his newborn pictures -- because you just have to get a picture of that little bum -- but I think he instinctively knew number one wasn't enough. So when we went for his one year old shots he just had to up the ante. While posing like the adorable lil ham he is and working it like a professional model, he suddenly stopped mid-shoot and started grunting like a tennis player at Wimbledon. The photographer, who apparently does not have children, panicked and asked what was wrong with him. She must have realized that he was okay because we as parents wee laughing hysterically off to the side and asked of we could take a ten minute break.
I call it a tie between the two boys, simply because I don't want anyone to try to out do the other any more.