Today, during naptime, Brandon and I were watching tv when we heard the door to the girls' room open and close. We figured that Portia had gotten up to use the restroom, and didn't think much of it. But a few minutes later, when we hadn't heard any noise from the bathroom, I decided to check on her. I thought that Portia had opened the door to see if we were still around, and gone back in.
She does that. And if we aren't in the room, she comes out and cries until someone finds her.
Segway.
I opened the door a crack, and saw Portia's bed empty. So I walked into the room to look for her, and make her take a nap. At this moment, Margot woke up, looked at me, rolled her eyes and went back to sleep. She thinks she's 12.
When I looked around for Portia, she was nowhere to be found. No joke. Not in her closet, not under the bed, nowhere.
Weird.
Brandon said "She probably went downstairs." So I followed. I looked in the kitchen. I looked in the bedrooms. I looked in the backyard and garage. I called out for her. I was starting to worry a bit. I know I put her in her room for a nap. That was my child.
I went back upstairs to enlist Brandon's searching skills, when I glanced in my closet. There Portia was, with her undies around her ankles, wad of toilet paper in her hand. It should go without saying that I jumped about 2 feet.
I said "Portia! What are you doing?" and she replied "I went poop and I need help wiping my bum." When asked why she had been standing in the closet for the last 10 minutes, she said she was "sneaking and hiding."
You can't make this stuff up, folks.
No comments:
Post a Comment