Morning Music and Playdates

I love starting the day listening to a lively morning song sung by my precocious three-year old boy. Ben likes to entertain himself (and others) while on the potty. Here are the lyrics that drifted out from the bathroom:

I poop I poop I poop Yeah!
I poop I poop I poop Hooray!
I poop I poop I poop Yeah!
I poop I poop I poop... (pause)

I NEED HELP WIPING MY BUTT!!!

Caleb had a "playdate" (I hate that term. It sounds so... bourgeois?) with a girl from his class. Both Caleb and Ben were really looking forward to it. However, within the first five minutes, our extremely outspoken guest announced that she had come over to play with Caleb, NOT BEN. As you can imagine, there were gigantic, wet tears. I put on a cheerful face but I was seething. Seething at this six-year old girl who looked up at me with hands on her hips as she rolled her eyes, sighed, and said, "Well, he doesn't have to CRY about it!"

How could she not want to play with Ben? He makes up creative songs about poop! His voice sounds just like Mickey Mouse's! And he's not bad looking, either! It was a long three hours.

I think from now on I would prefer it if playdates happened at other people's houses.