warm as toast

ollie pulled a caddyshack and left a baby ruth in the tub tonight.

gabe was on tub duty. i came into the bathroom and told them to get the show on the road. then i started telling gabe a (thrilling) story about work. i paused during my story and we both looked down at ollie, who was suddenly very quiet. he was in his hunched over, pooping position. the one where he throws himself on the floor and pretends like he's really interested in his shoes. though he had no shoes to pretend to be fascinated by so he was using bubbles as a stand-in.

"ollie are you pooping!?" one of us or maybe both of asked him.

"yeah," he casually answered, like it was no big deal. like he poops in the bath all the time.

gabe grabbed him and tried to pull him out of the tub. ollie fought him and tried to find his poop. his chubby little hands were trying to grab it. i stood there, with my mouth hanging open, not knowing what to do. finally, i wrapped him up in a towel and ran downstairs and gave him another bath. he didn't poop the second time.

this was after i fucked up his hair. i mean, after i gave him a hair cut. two years and three and a half months later, i finally cut his hair.

i was ichatting with my brother and ollie tonight and my brother said, "mom said he needs a haircut." and i totally agreed. he did need a haircut. it was out of control.

don't let the picture below fool you. it's a good picture. the cut is awful. he has bangs now. and the bangs are uneven. in the picture i swept them to the side, then took a picture, really fast before he could move.

poor kid.