I've been feeling guilty lately.
I ask myself questions like, Why do you let Adelaide stay up during nap time but not the boys? and Why do you let Adelaide have special treats when her brothers aren't around?
Then I wake up and realize I have nothing to feel guilty about, because it's not our daughter who awakens me in the mornings by gustily exhaling in my face and stage-whispering, "CAN I HAVE SOME MILK?" Adelaide can not only get her own liquid nourishment; she can make her own oatmeal. Her own oatmeal, friends. She can use the dry measuring cup and the liquid measuring cup and push the buttons on the microwave and spoon acceptable amounts of brown sugar over the whole thing, then put it all away when she's done. This is like a miracle. If we were Catholic I'd submit our daughter for sainthood, because I'm pretty sure that's how that whole process works.
It's not our daughter who makes it necessary for me to clean a bathroom a day. Let's be clear: we do not live in a six bedroom, five bathroom American McMansion Monstrosity, okay? We have two toilets in our house, and our boys are incapable of hitting either target with any kind of regularity. Derek needs to let any quarterback dreams he may be harboring for our young'uns die now, because I'm pretty sure you need aim to fill that position, and as our bathrooms can attest, no one aims in this house and succeeds. Although apparently an economist employed by an airport in Amsterdam to make their bathrooms less nasty had the idea to etch a picture of a fly just to the left of the drain in the bowls of the urinals. Post-etching, there was 80% less spillage. Someone come etch a little feather or something in my toilets. It could be a special project for your budding art student, right?
It also wasn't our daughter who, while walking alongside our grocery cart two days ago, turned to me and in a clear, carrying, 5-year-old boy voice, asked,
"Does the Hulk have a penis?"
I didn't know. Nor did any of the other people in that aisle, or if they did, they were content to simply stare but not answer the question.
Viva la Adelaide.