It's not very nice. And no one likes it when someone says it to them. But, I think that mommas have more opportunities than any one else on the planet to say it.
"I told you so."
From the other room, I hear Noah crying. It is not, however, his normal piercing cry of pain, fright or frustration. It's more of a soft cry of annoyance, but not expecting consolation. I go to investigate.
He is sitting inside the door that goes to the roof. His mouth is open and he is frantically wiping at his tongue with--is that the dog's chew rope?? Yes, it is.
"What's going on, Noah?" I ask, semi-chuckling as I take the dog rope away. He just looks at me, holding his mouth open with tongue out. "Do you want me to clean out your mouth?" I grab a towel, wet it and scrub his tongue while he waits patiently. He tries out his tongue, and then moans--I guess the taste was still there.
"So, let's see what you got into."
We go up on the roof, which is Noah's play area, our laundry area and also our upstairs neighboor, Manuel's front patio. Manuel just so happens to have a bottle of liquid dishwashing soap up there on a sink. Noah has been attracted to that bottle since the first day he saw it, and every day I've told him: "No touch. It's not a toy. Yucky." Which has caused all kinds of tears and tantrums.
And today, today! It was finally the day that Noah was able to stretch out his hand--unseen--and have that soap bottle to his heart's content. He first squirted it all over the sink. Then, all over the patio. Ah! Then, the fun part: A big gob in his hair. Which, knowing his habits, he just had to reach up and feel. And then, he needed to clean off his hands. He tried his pants... but, you know soap. It sticks. So, into the mouth go the fingers, and...: "Wahhhhh!" (but softly).
My response: "I told you so." I think he got it.
He sure smelled good. Bath time was interesting--using shampoo to wash out.... soap??
I am glad it rained last night. The patio is looking real sparkly.