Two days before Christmas, Jason had carpal tunnel surgery on his right wrist. We made it through Christmas with his one-handedness, even hosting out-of-town guests and holding a Christmas morning brunch for the extended family. We had a LOT of help from Uncle Phil, Aunt Twila, Jonathan and Andrew!
As our company pulled out of the drive, I wiped Owen's tears, then said to Jason, "I'm ready for you to get over this surgery, already."
"I can tell you are," he replied.
"Oh really? I didn't know I was so transparent."
"The first day, you were so nice. You kept bringing me drinks and ice and asking if there was anything else I needed....and then it stopped."
Yesterday afternoon, a poopy diaper on Jack interrupted my busyness. I dropped the overflowing, slimy, yellow mess into the trashcan because I didn't have time to origami-fold it into the smallest, tightest wad I could. I ran back to the kitchen to work on my time-sensitive soft pretzel dough for another get-together. As I was throwing the Kosher salt on my pretzels, Jason appeared with Jack. He had been investigating the foul smell, and when he found it, asked me why in the world I left such a smelly diaper and didn't finish the take-out.
I didn't handle the question very well. I shoved my irritation for about five minutes while he dumped the diaper in the garage bin, then unloaded as politely as I could. I might have mentioned some things about the kid wrangling, the cooking and the house cleaning I had been doing, without much of his help.
After we got to our destination, and had mingled a bit, he came back with a sheepish smirk. "Well, I guess I got paid back for my comment," he announced. It turns out he noticed something on his shoe, and when he couldn't tell what it was, he wiped his finger in it and smelled it--Jack poo!