You know what follows is bound to be interesting.
Last night, Bean wouldn't go to sleep. He hadn't felt well all day and took a catnap too late. The result was a little guy who was, at midnight, still running like an Olympic athlete.
I got him settled on the couch with a blanket, then turned on an episode of "Kipper the Dog." Bean watched TV while I went to the bathroom and put a clay mask on some problem areas around my chin and upper lip, kind of where I'd have a goatee--and I just realized that I've painted a wonderful picture of myself for you.
I don't have a goatee. At least, not a full one. Yet.
Anyway, once I got the goopy mud on I went out to the living room and sat down by Bean. Even though it hadn't been thirty seconds since I put the mask on, I'd already forgotten about it.
Bean stared at my face, his eyebrows slightly furrowed, studying me. I wondered at his change of mood. Then he asked, "Change diaper?"
Slowly, like a dawning morning, I remembered what I looked like. The lower half of my face was thickly covered in a sticky, smeary brown substance. To a toddler it must have looked like--
No wonder Bean was concerned.
I smiled as well as I could, since the mask was already drying. "Change diaper?" I asked, wondering what he'd say next. Usually if he finds something interesting, he tries to touch it. Not then. He didn't move a finger.
Bean alternated between looking me in the eyes and glancing at my chin. I don't remember when I've seen my little firecracker so calm and contemplative. Then he said, "Change diaper mouth."
I was at a loss of what to say that would help him understand (I turn into a zombie after midnight), as he didn't seem upset, just interested. So all I came up with was, "Oh, okay, buddy." I got off the couch and went to the computer, leaving him to watch Kipper and hopefully forget about what he thought he saw on his mother's face. He knows the words "wash face," so I don't know if I want to know what was going through his brain. Thankfully he passed out on the couch not long after.
Hopefully this experience won't leave a negative imprint on my son's subconscious memory that requires tons of therapy. At least I have another story to add to the family collection!