While traveling in Arizona, we ate lunch at a funky place called Wisdom Cafe. It had been a frustrating little road trip, with the kid at her worst. Which, I know, compared to a lot of other kids is not that bad. Still.
During an excursion to the bathroom in which I am sure 10 or 15 people probably waited outside the door to no avail, I found myself nagging the kid, again and again.
"Honey, DO NOT put your hands on the toilet seat, then put them in your mouth." Then, minutes later same. Same. Same. Now that the kid has likely wedged every germ in the known universe, or at least that bathroom, into her mouth, I finally look at her and sigh. "Why do you not listen to me, why?"
"I listen, but Mom, there's just so much going around and around in my head ... I just forget."
I get it. And I get where she gets it from. Me.
Except for that part about the toilet germs. I have no idea where she gets that.