Yellow Ledbetter (or Bed Wetter)

Ah, a flash from the past, right? Didn't we all wear flannel shirts and baggy pants at some point in the 90's and pretend to understand what the heck Pearl Jam was talking about when they moaned about Yellow Ledbetters? Was that just me that wore flannel? Maybe. Anyway, I was thinking of that today because I made yellow dinner. I know, a stretch. But, I did actually make that connection when I saw my delicious feast.

Appetizing, eh? It was delicious though. Tunisian chicken with raisins and potatoes. Yum. Anything with turmeric in it looks like someone cracked a highlighter on top of your food. What can I say? It also looks a bit like barf with little turds on it. Still, I had to post the picture because I know that Daddy, who's gone again, will be drooling at this, knowing that the more neon the dish, the yummier it is.

It was immensely popular with the Collin crowd. He literally polished off three, yes THREE helpings of chicken, potatoes and corn. I figured corn would be a good compliment, no? Come on, what better? Yellow! Why shirtless you ask? Well, because turmeric is, like I said, a highlighter. Even touch it and it's like paint. Sort of like curry. Considering he's got the use of his opposable thumbs down to about the skill level of a chimp, I don't exactly trust the kid not to paint his face, clothes and anything else with yellow.

So, why the bed wetter remark? Today, when the little man got up from nap he promptly announced, with attitude mind you, "No change diaper! Collin wear underwear!" He went to his drawer got them out and then said, "Choo-choo underwear!" We talked about it. I explained we don't pee on them and I (VERY RELUCTANTLY) agreed to let him wear them. He was so excited! He jumped all over the house shouting about his underwear. He also insisted he did NOT have to go potty. That is until ten minutes later when he peed on the couch. So, maybe I should call him couch wetter. I'm pretty sure that kids come in cute little packages so we don't drown them while we rinse out their wet pants and underwear.

Oh, and he FINALLY climbed out of his crib yesterday. It was horrible. He cried for about ten minutes solid afterward. I am thinking he won't do it again because of the trauma. If you even start to ask him about whether or not he'll do it again, he interrupts you to shout "NO!!!" I was shocked at the sound of the thud. I've heard we've all got termites in these houses around here, so I just hope that the supporting beams of our ceilings can take the weight of my massive kid falling at warp speed from the top of his crib rail.