Dear Megan,
I blame last night on you.
Bear with me, and please keep in mind that the previous statement holds an entirely different meaning than when we were in grad school. Back then, 'I blame last night on you' probably meant that today would be spent in a gin induced fog.
Today, this phrase means that I spent an incredulous amount of time cleaning up potty off the bathroom floor. All thanks to you.
It was you that got me hooked on 'The Big Bang Theory' in college. I now love that show. I love the sophisticated humor intermixed with absolutely juvenile shenanigans. I love it that several times a week this show can be found in mini-marathons on one of the few TV channels we actually get. (Yep, much like in college, I'm still ridiculously cheap.)
My son, Kenyon, is now almost two. 'Member when you held that little, delicate, sweet, innocent baby? I have no idea where that child went. He has since been replaced with a little tornado of never ending energy.
In the past few weeks we have begun potty training, and things had been progressing nicely....until last night. Last night, he was sitting on his potty chair in the bathroom and dutifully doing, well, his duty. When he heard the familiar, catchy, upbeat theme song to 'The Big Bang Theory' he completely forgot his prior obligations to control bodily functions, stood up and began to dance around the bathroom.
And this is why I spent the next half hour missing my favorite program and instead mopping the floor and wiping down walls. This is why I blame last night on you.
Yours truly,
Anna
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Just like mama said... If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all.