Potty Talk

Okay, so most of what comes out of my mouth could be deemed "potty talk" but this isn't what I'm referring to. Neither am I referring to Jared's lifelong dream of having a wife who will sit and talk to him while he's doing his "business." I'm talking about the M.A.C.E. This is the 40 minute procedure we do each night where we fill Harris' gut with water (via catheter through a man-made hole in his belly) and...well... he poops. It all gets cleaned out, no pushing required. (Jared's other lifelong dream!) During this time of effortless colon cleansing Harris plays his Nintendo DS. Sounds pretty painless right? WRONG! Harris hates it! He absolutely hates the whole process! There is minor physical discomfort involved but mostly he just doesn't want to sit upstairs alone that long. So most nights he cries, he complains, he asks "am I done yet?" half a million times and he calls my name at least that much. So when I'm feeling merciful I'll go up there and sit on the edge of the tub and read him books or talk to him. So this is is tonight's "potty talk."

Harris: "Mom, remember when I was a dead robot?"

Me: (crickets chirping. I'm searching my brain.)

Harris: "Remember, grandma was there and I couldn't move and there were wires in me?"

Me: "Oh, yeah buddy! When you had your EKG! That's called an EKG."

Harris: "That totally sucked, Mom!"

Me: "Harris, please don't say sucked. That's not a nice--"

Harris: (not listening to a word I'm saying) "Mom, remember when they took my blood blister?"

Me: (Again, I'm searching my brain...searching...)

Harris: "Oh! I mean my blood pressure, with a needle?"

Me: (still searching...)"Oh! Yeah! They weren't taking your blood pressure, they were just drawing blood, they do that so---"

Harris: (interruping) "That totally sucked, Mom. That totally, totally sucked."

Me: "Harris, please do not say that word! I don't like that word at all--"

Harris: "Mom, I'm tired of talking. Can you hand me my DS?"

Seriously! HE'S tired of talking to ME?