When we become parents we seem to make an instant transformation. It is a transformation similar to Superman going into the phone booth; Average Joe going in, superhero coming out. Minus the capes and the super powers. Hold the phone, we do have powers. Amazing powers that allow us to do amazing things.
You might be a parent if….
You can brush your teeth and hold your 3 year olds wiener while he pees.
You can brown up some hamburger, fix someone a drink, and cut up some veggies all with a baby on your hip and a toddler or two flailing on the floor because you aren’t fast enough with the milk.
You can stop mid-bite to go wipe someone’s ass only to come right back and resume business as usual.
You can whip up six dozen cookies at the last-minute when your kid tells you they forgot that they needed to take snacks for the school program….which happens to be tomorrow.
You aren’t afraid to catch vomit in your bare hands.
You can lay down on the couch and still know exactly what your kids are doing. With your eyes closed.
You take your kids out to dinner and you spend more time in the bathroom than you do at your table.
You can answer all their questions with movie quotes.
Big boogers no long scare you. You will pick it and you will wipe it on your pants and you just won’t give a shit.
You schedule all well child checks months in advance so that you are guaranteed an on-time appointment but you can’t remember to schedule your yearly hoo-ha check.
You can’t remember to take your grocery list when you go shopping but you know exactly where Sally’s red sparkly headband is that she wore three weeks ago.
Laundry. So much laundry you actually consider turning your home into a nudist colony.
You can play two different board games at the same time while catching up on your Words With Friends matches, and you manage to win them all.
Your most popular phrases are “get your finger out of your butt”, “we don’t eat boogers for lunch”, and “no, I don’t want to smell your fart”.
Your living room decor no longer consists of beer can pyramids and wine bottle trees. Instead you discover non-commissioned works of art using mediums that you are certain should be removed by men in hazmat suits.
Your bathroom always smells like pee, no matter how often you clean it.
You can change a diaper in the dark and not leave any residue behind. Except for that shitty smell on your hands that can only be removed by amputation.
You can tiptoe through a bedroom at three in the morning and not step on a single Lego, but attempt it in the daylight and you are damning them all to the depths of hell.
You aren’t against taking a glass of wine and your tablet or smart phone or even Goodnight Moon into the bathroom and locking the door, whether you have to poop or not, just for a few minutes of alone time.
You do laundry because hampers are full, not because you have a shirt that is dirty that you want to wear to the bar tonight.
You can discuss the contents of your child’s vomit over dinner and continue eating as if you are talking about rainbows and unicorns.
You do math homework. Or at least you try.
You use glitter.
Most of your conversations are centered around poop, farts, burps, butts and boogers.
While we may not be huge fans of some of the things we do now (I for one am not a lover of vomit), we wouldn’t change any of it. Except maybe the poo on the walls.
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