"Mommy, can you wipe my poo-poo?"

There it is...did you hear it? That knock, knock, knock on my bedroom door. Shh, there it is again.

"Who is it?" I ask (although I already know the answer 99% of the time).

"It's me, can I come in?" asks the preschooler.

"What do you need?" I ask, wishing that my bedroom could be some sort of sanctuary where I could hide and "they" couldn't find me.

"I need to go potty." comes Thing 4's answer.

"Alright, come in." I say, knowing that should an accident occur, whatever hope I had for peace will take that much longer to obtain because of the mess I'd have to clean up.

Now, I'm not sure why it must be my bathroom. I guess it's because it is in close proximity to me, the butt wiper, because two minutes later after listening to the grunts and groans of pushing I hear, "Mommy, can you wipe my poo-poo?"

I view this as an opportunity for a lesson in the English language. "Honey, I'm not going to wipe your poo-poo, that would be gross. I will, however, wipe your bum and make sure you're all cleaned up." (I know, not really much less gross, but it is something.)

It doesn't matter, this episode plays out several times a day (who knew such a little butt could produce so much poo!) and it's ALWAYS the same question, "Mommy, can you wipe my poo-poo?"

I suppose this is one of those moments that I'll look back on and reminisce with misty eyes when they're all grown up. I most certainly can't use it on a resume should I ever attempt to join the workforce later.

Job Title: Butt Wiper
Job Description: Wiping poo-poo off of butts. Anyone can be an Ass Kisser, but it takes someone special to be a Butt Wiper!

Nope, don't see that as a plan for success.