Two (rather damp) steps back

Not that I consider myself a tragic hero or anything (often merely tragic!), but the other day's hubris definitely came back to haunt me. Barely more than twenty-four hours after bragging about my oh-so-progressive attitude toward the aforementioned pee incident, Bugglegirl struck again. This time it was blatant. This time, it was as though we'd rerouted the Euphrates. A deluge on the carpet, right in front of the leather sofa. I had started to undress her for bed when she bolted to the den to retrieve her blanket and relieve her bladder. And then she laughed.

Then today as I was crossing the courtyard to pick up Bugglegirl from school, I spotted a darkened half-moon at the bottom of her denim jumper. Sure enough, this was not the usual arts and crafts project gone awry. "Did you have an accident?" She nodded. I resisted the urge to create more drama and said simply, "Let's go get changed." And she complied - instantly, following me into the building like I was Cinderella carved out of ice cream. No doubt I'll be recanting these words soon enough, but I'm choosing to view this as a small victory rather than a soggy setback.