Tom seduced me last night.
As I was showering afterwards I suddenly thought,
"Wasn't it advised that you not have sex 48 hours prior to a pap smear?"
I can't remember. I thought I remembered reading this. But I read a lot of things so the words and information sometimes blurs together. It doesn't help that I have an awful memory to boot.
But if the doctor is between my legs and while prodding me says, "So have you had intercourse in the past few days? Because I see sperm in here.." I am not going to be happy. I'm the type of person who gets embarrassed over things like this. I wish I could be the type that would casually give a knowing grin and say, "Yes. I have had sex. Is there a problem?" while fluttering my eyelashes but what'll happen is that I'll turn bright red, mutter a few unintelligible words out and try to change the subject. "What a lovely room this is, doctor.."
In other news, Tommy took a dump on the carpet. (And yes, this is the point where non parents might want to stop reading. I won't be insulted, prior to having kids I certainly wouldn't want to read about poop. I mean, ick.)
We're still working on potty training. He'll sit on the potty and read but the minute anything starts to happen he panics, jumps up and darts off into his room to pull on a Pull Up. (It's a sensory thing.) I know, I know I should just toss those things out, they won't help, but at the same time I don't want my house to turn into a giant toilet. This house isn't ours after all, it belongs to the military and we get to pay for the stains that won't come out.
Tommy takes after me. I'm embarrassed to say that I was a late potty trainer. I just didn't care if there was a mess in my pants.
What happened was this: Tommy went off into a corner and I thought he was playing. I was doing dishes, Tom was packing for his trip and then all of a sudden I hear Tommy shout,
"POOP! OH NO POOP!"
I rushed over to him and asked where the poop was. He pointed to the floor and there was a tiny turd sitting there. Thankfully he doesn't smear or play with his poop. I've heard of stories where kids do that. But poop freaks him out so he wants nothing to do with it.
What did I do when I saw it? I laughed. And Tom, who also had heard Tommy came down and spotted it and started to flip out.
"There's SHIT on our floor. I mean crap. I mean POOP," he shouted. (He's trying to watch his swear words around Tommy. Because Tommy repeats more and I really do not want him going to school and saying, "Hello Miss Lezlie. FUCK!")
I kept laughing. Why? Because the poop resembled a fortune cookie. I have no idea why this amused me. Maybe because I saw it wasn't smeared into the carpet. It was just, well, there.
"Stop laughing! Why are you laughing. There is SHIT, I mean crap, I mean POOP on our floor!" Tom yelled.
All the while Tommy was whining, "Ewww. Poop!"
I gathered my composure, got some toilet paper and picked up the poop. Then I plucked it in the toilet. Tom scrubbed the spot with resolve for about five minutes. I kept telling him he didn't have to scrub so much but he went,
"I won't be able to set foot around this area if I don't do this.."
Then I had to clean Tommy up. He had had an explosion in his pants.
Tom is gone by the way. He left early this morning. I do miss him. But we had an enjoyable night. We cuddled, made fun of America's Next Top Model and pigged out on junk food.
He should be back Friday or Saturday. He'll call to let me know.
Tonight I am getting Taco Bell. See, Tom left the car in a parking lot on the base and Jennifer is driving me to it. Then we're having Taco Bell.
Mmm grilled stuffed burrito.