the garbage police

Toby woke up on the majorly wrong side of the bed this morning. He has gotten old enough to understand that there are days that I have off work and that I take him to school anyways. Most days he doesn't mind. This was NOT one of them.

I spent the morning dealing with his emphatic refusal that he was going to school. While I was in the bathroom, he was walking around the house muttering like an old man that he didn't think it was fair that he had to go, that he wanted to go to Grammy's house all by himself and that he'd just stay in the house alone while I went to the store. I was in the bathroom laughing quietly to myself because he sounded so darn funny.

On one of his laps he had to go into the kitchen to throw something away. I heard the lid to the garbage can open and then I heard "WHAT is this? Is this popcorn? Did someone have popcorn?" I walked around the corner to see the little squirt holding the bag from my "midnight snack" (a tasty empty bag of Orville Redenblahblahbockers popcorn). He had it up out of the can and was looking at me with this look of shock and horror. How DARE I eat popcorn once he was in bed?

I didn't ever realize that a little child can make you feel so guilty. I didn't feel bad about taking him to school on my day off. But man, oh man, did I feel like I was the kid and my parent had just busted me for smoking a joint or sneaking a beer.

Next time I need to remember to put a dirty pullup or a cat turd in the garbage last!