With C&D I try to distill every thing to its simplest components.  Especially when a toilet seat is involved.

So, after a morning where I had switched key words with disastrous results,  resorted to clapping to get the attention of my two busy-bodies (busybodies and busy bodies) when words failed me at key times (like when David was just about to lick the toilet seat), then resorted to clapping and stamping before I figured out how to verbalize "we don’t throw our peas, Carmen," David looked at me with sad, concerned eyes.  I responded with the only thing I could think to say:  "Mommy’s mouth is broken.  I am clapping so I can get your attention."

He mouthed the words.  "Mommy’s mouth is broken."  He repeated them louder, his eyes a little wider.   "Mommy’s mouth is broken.  Like the bobo on Mommy’s head."

I nodded.  He nodded back, smiled, and turned back to his lunch.

Of course there’s nothing wrong with my mouth.  But I think for now, that’s the best explanation I could give him, and I’m glad he took it.

Still fiddling with the site, and still trying to edit posts that have yet to be published.  The sickies are at our house, so our priorities this past week have been food, sleep, and laundry.