Right before he showered, he looked at me and whispered, "Mama, come here."
He never whispers so I was fully compliant.
"What's up, Espen?"
"I have to poop."
"Ok, let's go in the private changing area right by Mathis and Jackie and then we can pop back out."
He hung back for a moment, not wanting to commit. This is odd behavior especially since Espen normally loves to announce The Impending Arrival of Poop at at full voice in any venue.
I jiggled his hand a bit and coaxed him into the bathroom.
"What is it buddy? Are you too excited to poop? Don't want to spend the time in here when the pool is beckoning?"He sat there on the toilet, looking at me until he felt the Event Approaching. Waved frantically at me.
"Get out of here, mamma!"
"Boo, I need to be in here in case you need something."
Shrieks.
"NO GET OUT OF HERE THIS MINUTE!"
I turned around and stared at the wall instead of my apopleptic offspring.
Silence reigned.
I peeked over my shoulder. "All done?"
He nodded as he slid off the seat and allowed me to perform some hygienic procedures on his rump.
Washed his little paws.
And then looked at me very deeply and motioned me forward.
Again, Espen and covertness have never been bedfellows.
I leaned in.
"Mamma, DON'T tell Jackie."
"What?"
"DON'T tell Jackie I pooped."
His face was dead serious. Somewhere between that moment and all those before it, Espen decided that pooping was not a thing to be talking about with people he admires.We were seconds away from verbal interface with Jackie and Mathis, so I acted quick.
"Sure Wesp, I'll keep it quiet."
He looked at me again to be sure I wasn't kidding and then nodded and proceeded to behave as if nothing poop related had occurred in the bathroom.
Nothing to see here folks, nothing at all. Just your normal 3 year old sense of modesty or coolness or who knows what exactly, but I had my marching orders.
