My third child threw a monkey wrench into my “perfect” world. He’s a great kid, and I love him, but some days….well, he’s a boy. Need I say more?

One beautiful spring afternoon, we were playing in the backyard. Well, I was “supervising” behind a good book while the kids were imagining some really fun action-story with their toys. Noah was working on a hole when he decided they needed water. He immediately goes for the hose, but I’m not a glutton for punishment, so I make him turn it off. A few minutes later he comes to me “dying” of thirst.

“Mommy, I’m fursty! Can I have some waddur?”

“Sure, I’m so glad you’re making a healthy choice for a drink.”

He goes to get a bottle of water, takes one sip, then pours it all into his hole! Of course, he should not do this. I tell him he cannot waste our drinking water by playing with it and he cannot do that again.

“But, I really need waddur!”

“NO!”

Minutes pass.

“Mommy, what is waddur made of?”

“Hydrogen and oxygen,” I smartly reply. That ought to hold him for a while.

“Okay!” He runs away to his hole. I watch him look around for a few moments before he runs back to me.

“Mommy, what is hydo-, hygo-, hydogen?”

“Noah, you can’t make water, silly. You don’t need to play with it anyway, you’ll only make a muddy mess.”

He sulks away. I return to the same sentence I’ve been trying to read since I sat down. Then I hear it:

“AAAAAHHHHH! Mommy! Noah is pee-ing in the hole!”

Yep, he figured out how to make waddur.