A couple of Stratton funnies:
- About two weeks ago I was sitting in my Sunday school class, listening to the closing prayer, when I got a tap on my shoulder and Pam Moody whispered in my ear that Stratton had an emergency and I was needed in the bathroom. With pictures of blood dripping everywhere, I grabbed my bag and rushed (as fast as a 9 month pregnant woman wearing heels can rush) down the hall to where about 10 or 12 ward members were clustered around the men's bathroom. As I entered the bathroom I heard Stratton singing from one of the stalls. The stall door was open and there he was, perched on the toilet with feet swinging back and forth, pants around his ankles. "Stratton? What are you doing, Buddy?" "Hi Mom! I'm going potty," he answered brightly. Relief flooded through me. "Are you done? Do you need me to wipe your bum?" "Yep!" We took care of business and got his hands washed and he went running back to class. I couldn't help but laugh - that's what the emergency was all about?! The primary president told me he went to the bathroom and when he didn't come back his teacher went after him and he wouldn't let her wipe him, so she got the primary president but Stratton wouldn't let her either. They got Pam (the ward librarian, who sits behind us in sacrament meeting and always spoils the boys with treats and prizes every week) but Stratton wouldn't let her either. So they got the bishop, but he wouldn't let the bishop do it either! This whole time they'd been trying to find Ric and I but Ric had run home for something and for some reason they didn't see me when they looked into the Gospel Essentials class. It was quite hilarious actually - such a big to-do over my four year old that needed his bottom wiped! I was actually glad that nobody else had done it because it was an almost embarrassingly big poo!
- A couple of nights ago I had sorted some laundry and needed it taken to the boys' bathroom/laundry room and asked Stratton if he could do it. "Sure!" he answered. "Ha! That's what any man could do!" And he handed me his favorite blanket, and pushed the basket to the bathroom. My hero!
- I didn't realize how closely Stratton was paying attention to what I was doing when I nursed the baby until the other day I watched him lift up his shirt, and while holding it with his chin, stick his baby tiger stuffed animal up to his nipple. "I'm feeding my baby too," he informed me. "Honey, only mommies feed the babies," I corrected. He disregarded my instruction, arguing that daddies do too. I tried again. "No Buddy, it's a very special thing and only mommies feed their babies mommy milk." "Well daddies do too and they give the babies special daddy milk and it's chocolate milk and I'm the baby tiger's daddy," he stubbornly insisted. He had me there - chocolate milk trumps regular milk every time in my mind too. (I have since decided that it is now necessary to fully cover up when nursing!)