Taco Tuesday

I feel like there is not much that can ruin my Taco Tuesday dinner, I spend my whole week looking forward to this meal! Mila, who cooks for the family I work with makes us tacos every Tuesday with expensive steaks and homemade guacamole, and if my last meal consisted of her tacos, I'd die happy.

But tonight...that all changed.

I work with four children side by side with Emilie, the au pair who lives with the family. Three boys and one girl.

Tonight I was at the dinner table with Emile and the two youngest children, George(7) and Isaac(4)

Everything was going as usual, lots of whining and refusing to eat, getting up and running around, sitting in laps, spilling food everywhere, etc. But none of the chaos was phasing me, because for a few precious moments, I was in taco heaven.

But all at once my brief affair with my taco ended, and I was no longer hungry.

You see, as I was sitting there eating, I heard a noise. I look up from my plate with guacamole and sour cream dripping from my chin to see that George(7) is not at the table. I realize he is in the bathroom that is conveniently located right next to the dining room and I hear a low, long, groan. But the thing is, it doesn't stop. The groan keeps going, and it starts getting louder and sounds more unhappy, more frantic.

Slightly concerned at this point, Emilie and I look at each other across the table, and since neither of us wants to get up from the meal, we just shout and ask if everything is okay.

As if to answer us, he just gives a more intense loud groan. Nothing kills my appetite more than clearly hearing a 7 year old boy struggle to take a shit. I finally give up on my food, and walk to the bathroom door.

Jessica: George, is everything okay? We can hear you from the table...What's going on in there?

George: NO! EVERYTHING IS NOT OKAY! I'M TRYING TO PUSH THE POO OUT AND I CAN'T!!!! *At this point he makes a sound that I would assume to be something like an animal howling and shrieking*

Jessica: *as I burst into laughter* Okay sweetie, well I'm sorry. Let us know if you need anything.

And for the next five minutes I just sat at the table, staring at my now unappetizing food, listening to George try to push his poo out...

I don't know that I'll ever be able to have the same love for taco tuesday, as I fear I will now always get the image of poor George sitting on the toilet.


Working with kids has it's price.