I had an appointment this morning, so Tony took the kids with him to the farm for a bit. When I returned home, long enough to collect the kids and head out to Jack Pine Java for the rest of the day, Tony commented in passing "Oh yeah. Susanna had diarrhea at the farm and took a bath." What???? I grabbed an extra change of clothing to take with us...just in case.
The afternoon was uneventful. A few good sales. The highlight was, of course, when Santa arrived (he comes in from 4-6 p.m. on Fridays). My kids know he isn't "real," but they still love to sit on his lap (maybe it's the "reindeer food," maybe it's because he listens as Susanna lists off all her grievances and boo-boos, maybe it's because he's Drew & Tasha's grandpa....). Well, as I was sitting writing out post cards, waiting for some action at my Watkins booth, I hear Luke bellowing out, 'NO! DON'T TELL SANTA ABOUT YOUR DIARRHEA!!! NO, SUSANNA!"
Okay, that is the wrong thing to say to Susanna. Ever. She was off and running. "Santa, Santa! I gotta tell you something!!!"
I hung my head lower and pretended I was some childless customer sitting and enjoying a coffee or hot cocoa while writing out my Christmas cards. Trouble was, I had no coffee or hot cocoa in front of me. And everyone in the coffee shop knew those two.....children....were mine.
NO!! SUSANNA! DON'T DO IT!!!!
Be quiet, Luke! I want to tell Santa something!
NO! DON'T TELL HIM!!!!
Santa, I gotta tell you something. Today, at the farm, I had diarrhea. And grandma had to give me a bath because I had white stuff all over me. I told her I had to take a LONG bath. I really like bath time.
SUSANNA! THAT IS SO EMBARRASSING!!!!!
Ignoring your children does not make them go away. Nor does it stop them from telling private things.
Hm. Maybe I'll tell this story to her first date.