A couple of weeks ago, something strange happened.
I changed Littlest's nappy. You may not think that should be so unusual, but the fact that I had done so at his explicit request seemed a little odd. I mean, he wasn't even 17 months old, and he HATES nappy changes. Surely I had just imagined his communicated request?
Then the next day, he asked again. 'Really, sweetie? You want Mammy to change your nappy?'
Some vehement nodding indicated that I had deciphered his intentions correctly.
Huh. What a clever kid. He'd be potty trained before he could walk!
I mean, clearly I had a genius on my hands here. I tried to get him to fill in a MENSA application, but he insisted on attempting to eat the paper. Ah. No new understanding of the laws of physics from this kid then.
Hmm. Perhaps the new liners in his nappies were causing discomfort? But his skin was as smooth as the proverbial baby's bottom and he was perfectly content in a freshly lined nappy.
That was it. I was out of ideas. Maybe he's just bossy?
It took me another day, and another clue, to work it out. (No, MENSA isn't waiting on my paperwork either!)
He pointed to his nappy, then escorted me to the changing table.
'Is it nappy changing time? Yes?'
A fresh round of nodding, and now, some clicking.
'Oh! Click-click, here doggie! Don't worry, Mammy won't forget to wake up the doggie in the cuckoo clock on the way past'
'Bwuf Bwuf!'
'That's right, the doggie will say "woof woof", you're so clever'.
And it hit me. He is so clever. Clever enough to know that getting his nappy changed means calling the doggie to come out of the cuckoo clock and barking with him. Totally worth the cold breeze and indignity of the changing table.
I love that my kids are smart enough to outsmart me. But couldn't they at least wait till age 2 to do it?!
