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I have convinced Kenny that there are only three things that play on our television set: Sports on Saturdays (when Daddy’s teaching him the finer nuances of baseball, or whatever major sport is in season), The News (CNN – which I will very rarely turn on during a desperate plea for a brain break from singing “Itsy Bitsy Spider” until my head’s going to fall off), and “Funny Guy TV,” which is the first half hour of Sesams Street.

I turn it on for him most weekday mornings at precisely 8 am, after our morning jog / walk and our shared bowls of cereal and yogurt, so that I can make my bed, take a shower and get dressed for the day. I’ve discovered that it’s far safer (and saner!) than letting him “play” in my room and bathroom while I try to get ready. That usually involved him: A. Trying to jump into the shower with me, B. Him using my long dresses hanging in the closet as ropes to swing on, or C. Using my toothbrush to clean Dudley’s teeth.

All of this means that I can not only control a very limited amount of TV viewing for his little developing brain, but that when he points at the TV at other intervals during the day and says, “TV on?” I can say, “No sweetie. Funny Guy TV is only on when Mommy’s in the shower.”

You have to have guessed by now that this has come full circle. Today at Barnes and Noble, we spent some time in the children’s section, looking for some new CDs for Kenny (we only own about four, and they are wearing mighty thin). He saw a display for some Sesame Street CDs, and shouted, “GWOVER! BEE BIRD! Funny Guys, MAMA! Shower!” I had nothing to say to this spout of wisdom, but soon noticed an elderly lady and an older business man giving me the fish eye. I was about to sputter an explanation when Kenny declared, “Mama Shower NOW! Funny guys! E-mo! Mama shower!”

I’d like to say that we bought the CD and hightailed it out of there, but just then, perhaps from the force of his vocal chords, he squatted and did an enormous poop in his diaper. And yes, the diaper bag was in the car. And yes, it was 99 degrees today. Do you know what Desitin does when it’s left in the car on a 99 degree day? We went out to the parking lot, grabbed the bag and ran back in to change him. “Hot, Mama! No new diaper,” he said, and started to make blowing noises like he does to his food when it’s hot. We fanned it off a bit and got him cleaned up. And then we bought our CD and hightailed it out of there.

Except that I noticed that he wasn’t holding his sippy cup anymore by the time we got to the car. So we went back in. We found it. We went home. The moral of the story is: Beware of toddler verb conjugations.