It Sounds Different Somehow....

Yesterday I had a rare pleasure.  I got to take Toddler to sit in a surgical center waiting room for a few hours while waiting for my friend to get a scar removed under anaesthesia.  We were the designated driver.  So, not only did I have to remain sober and drug free during our stay, I had to keep Toddler quiet, appropriately fed, and entertained.  Depending on what minute you asked me, I was succeeding or failing at any one of these individual items (or wishing I were), but that is almost beside the point.

Almost from the moment we arrived at the surgical center, something interesting happened.  Toddler began saying things I hadn't heard (or at least hadn't realized I heard) before.  Suddenly, for one afternoon, I saw the world from Toddler's eyes, mirrored back to me in what he said.  Check it out:

TODDLER (to most everyone):  Hello, sweetheart!  (Everyone laughed and said, "Well hello, sweetheart!)

To the nurse:  Fix friend's nose!  Friend's nose is purple and red. (It was.  Everyone laughed.)

To my friend:  You're cute!  You're cute!  You're cute!  (Everyone laughed and said, "No, YOU'RE cute.)

To me when we left my friend for her surgery:  Don't worry, mommy.  Don't worry.  Everything will be OOOOOKKAAAAAYYYY. (Everyone laughed.)

To anyone that handed him a sticker or toy:  Ooooohh, wooooooowwwwww!!!!  (Everyone laughed.)

To his coloring book:   Big Bird, hold still!  I color now!  Mommy!  I tickle Big Bird!

To the clerk in the cafeteria:  No toys on the table! (She laughed.)

To the nurse in the bathroom:  No toys! (She looked blankly at him.)

To Pluto the Dog:  Uh oh!  Pluto fell!  Are you okay, Pluto?  I'm fine, Pluto.  Is it slippery, Pluto?  (I am not aware that Pluto answered any of this.)

To my friend after surgery:  Nose is all fixed now!  All better!  (Everyone laughed.)

To everyone he saw:  Goodbye everybody!  (Everyone laughed and said goodbye.)

We threw 3 pennies into the fountain because the clerk wanted to give him pennies.  The clerk was sorry when he got upset because there were no more pennies.

We went to the bathroom 200 times that I remember, sometimes less than five minutes apart.  Not all of the trips were successful, nor were all of them on time.  I reassert my belief that the potty training stage for little boys is fraught with peril and all nearby personnel should be wearing scuba gear.  Large public toilets were also not designed with small boys in mind, but I also affirm the Huggies commercial that putting a diaper near a little boy's nether regions will prevent a lot of heartache.  Of course, now that I am once again carrying spare trousers in my bag, no emergency clothes changes have been required.  Murphy's law has granted me that much predictability at least.

The floor of the surgical center bathrooms is white.  The floor of the waiting room where the crayons kept falling is blue carpet.  The pre-op area where Pluto the dog kept falling is also blue carpet.  The wall where the millk somehow ended up has blue wallpaper.  The elevator we took up and down to the cafeteria is number 8.  The elevator we took up to the surgical area when we got there was number 2, and the one we took back down was number 3.  The crayons in our box are red, blue, yellow, and green, and depending on when you count them, they are 4, 5, or 6 in number.

We touched the floor, the potty, doorknobs and trashcans and we survived.

Then we went home.