Dash woke up and rolled out of bed, I heard him from my room as he padded down the hall. As is the usual routine, he made his was directly to my room, where I asked him if he needed to use the potty. He went into my bathroom and as he was going, yelled out to me, “Am I going to school today?” I told him he was, then waited. I’m trying to establish that bathroom time is a solo deal, in the likely futile hope that he will begin to think that my bathroom time is sacred. I know, dream on.
His everyday pattern is to go to the bathroom, come climb in bed with me (and his brother who is almost always awake first), give me a hug and settle in to drink some milk while I have coffee, and we watch some cartoons for a bit until it is a reasonable time to be awake, or about 7 am.
This morning, he came out and walked over to my side of the bed, then looked up at me expectantly. “Mommy.”
“That’s me, buddy. Come give me a hug good morning!” I leaned down to scoop him up and he brought up a hand between us. I paused and asked, “Don’t feel like watching cartoons? You can play in the toy room while mommy has coffee if you want.”
He cocked his head to the side and dripping with preschool judgement, he said, “I don’t have time for hugs and cuddles and silly shows. I have a lot of work to do.”
I’m pretty sure I just got sloth-shamed by a three year old.