Give Me a P!

What is it like to be a parent? What do you do all day? Well, let me give you an example. I'm nursing a baby, wiping off the kitchen counter and talking on the phone to someone who wants a violin when Xanthe's friend comes upstairs in a ballet costume and reports that Xanthe peed in a laundry basket in her room. What?

Trying to remain calm, I go downstairs to investigate. I sit on the bed so I will appear less tall and menacing, because I feel really menacing. Here's how that went:

"Xanthe, where are you?"
Xanthe comes out from under the bed, wearing a tutu and three shirts.
"Xanthe, did you pee in your room?"
"Yes."
"Why did you do that?"
"BeCAUSE!"
"Where?"
"You're sitting on it."

Uh-huh. Now I notice that my pants feel wet and there is a big yellow puddle on the bedspread exactly where I'm sitting. Apparently, a laundry basket perched on top of a bed seemed like a fine place to go to the bathroom. It's efficient, I'll give her that. No need to go all the way upstairs. I can't help but wonder if she bothered to take off all the costumes she's wearing before she went, but honestly, I don't have the strength to check just yet.

Now my pants and all of Xanthe's bedding are in the washer. That's what it's like to be a parent at this exact moment. If it sounds too good to be true, just wait. Something bad is bound to happen. (Yes, it can get worse!) This incident caused me to have the Facts of Life theme song running through my head all afternoon. "You take the good, you take the bad, you take it all and there you have the facts of life...the facts of life!" The bad? Sitting in a puddle of urine. The good? I am happy with the way I reacted. The facts of life? This, or a variation of this, will happen again. And I'm OK with that. I'll take it all. The whole alphabet. Even the P.