“Mom, Nonna lets me spit in the toilet.”

It has been just over a week since my parents (a.k.a. Nonno & Nonna) watched our two angels while my husband & I went on a four day mini-vacation. Every day since we have been home my oldest has leaked out covert information about his unsupervised time with my parents. Don’t get me wrong; I am one of those parents who truly believe that whatever happened while we were away (as long as both kids are alive & the house hasn’t burned down) is their little secret. Funny thing though…my oldest can’t keep a secret.

Every day is a new nugget of information like a mythical breadcrumb trail leading me to the enchanted forest where Grandparents are in charge: 

“Mom, Nonno lets me color outside everyday!” Not a big deal, but the weather has since turned & it is only 50 degrees these days – not gonna happen, son.

“Mom, Nonno lets us build forts in the dining room with the table and blankets. Trevor & I have secret club meetings under there.” Awesome, let’s hope that they post the “no girls allowed” sign soon so I don’t have to crawl under there to referee the toy time.

“Mom, Nonna lets me spit in the toilet.” Now this one made me stop folding the laundry & turn to him for further explanation.

“Oh really? When you say ‘spit’ – exactly what do you mean?” My son proceeds to mimic the motion of spitting. OK, now that we know he understands the word (always a concern with him) lets figure out why my parents taught him to spit in our absence. Were they trying to macho up my four year old? Is he not tough enough for their liking? They did raise four girls, and my father is retired military – my boys’ impromptu ballet moves & reenactments of tea parties during lunch may have pushed them over the edge.

“How often do you spit in the toilet, son?” I ask with a straight face.

My son looks at me like I have a learning disability & he feels sorry for me. “Every time I brush my teeth, Mom.” It is all crystal clear to me now. Since we had adult height vanities installed in the boy’s bathroom, even with a stepstool it is a bit high for my eldest to navigate. At 44 lbs I don’t expect my mother & her knee replacement to dead-lift my moose of a son. ‘Spitting’ toothpaste into the toilet was the easiest solution.

“OK, Connor but now that we’re home lets go back to aiming for the sink.”

“Sure Mom. Nonna & Nonno are the best!” He states very matter-of-factly as he pirouettes out of the room.

I can’t wait to see were the breadcrumb trail will lead me tomorrow!!!

My youngest with the Enchanted Creatures he adores - my parents.



Side note - is this child always eating, or is it just me???