The Escort Service

I run a personal escort service. Okay, get your mind out of the gutter. It’s not that kind of business. I’m my four year old son’s personal escort. If he has an urge to go to the bathroom in a restaurant right when our food arrives, he glances at me, his personal escort and declares, “Mommy, take me to the bathroom!” Sure my husband is sitting right next to him and can take him to the men’s room, but no, I’m the lucky chaperone who gets to escort him to the loo and wipe his cute behind since he always saves the number twos for me. But the personal escort service doesn’t stop at the bathroom. I have also found myself escorting him to the basement, the pantry, his bedroom, the toy chest, you name it and I’ve been there with my little companion. Don’t get me wrong. I love spending time with him but it’s getting to the point where he needs to start being a little more independent. Mommy does not have to escort you to the bathroom in the house when she’s literally 10 feet away on the couch and can monitor your every move. I’ve even gone so far as to offer monetary compensation if he takes a trip to the bathroom without me as his tour guide. The tactic worked and so far I’m out one dollar. Today, after I walked him downstairs and then took him to the bathroom he said, “Mommy, does Superman go to the bathroom by himself?” I thought for a moment and replied, “Absolutely, nobody has to take Superman to the bathroom, he can go by himself.” My son thought for a moment and then said, “Okay, then if Superman can do it, so can I. You can go sit down now Mommy.” Hmmm…maybe we’re onto something. Maybe I can finally close my shingle on my personal escort service. “Mommy…come take me to the kitchen,” I hear from the other room. Wishful thinking. Back on duty.