Cereal.
Cars.
Another piece of toast.
Spiderman.
Another piece of toast.
And another piece of toast again.
No Barney. No bath. No direction contrary to whatever
it is that he is doing.
He wants to scrap with dad. He wants to be independent
and brush his teeth alone. He hates to have his hair washed. He has the toddler
thing all figured out, this little guy does.
Almost.
Almost, because dude can’t be bothered to use the can like
the rest of the family. Him likes his diapers, and is in no rush, none, to
start doing his business where his business should be done.
Admittedly, Mrs. Family Man Muser and I have been less
than stellar in getting him trained. Oh, but we have tried.
Begged and bribed him too, but nothing has yet
compelled our little fella to take that next developmental step, one that, as a
fortunate side note, will save us the sheckels we are still spending on diapers
every month.
Last weekend, while browsing through IKEA, Mrs. FMM
came across a four-dollar potty that just could not be left behind. Toilet be damned, let’s at least try him on
a new potty again.
So we bought it and sat him on it that night.
And on that very occasion, his very first seating on
the four-dollar potty, dude got it right and tinkled.
So proud, the entire family.
Way to go big guy.
Next morning, we tried again. Pants off and take a seat my friend.
He lasted all of two minutes, no inkling for the
tinkling today.
It was breakfast-time, so I decided to let him roam,
al fresco, while I was eating. But I did expressly point out that if he had to
go, his only option was to go on the little green potty.
He nodded. May have even said yes.
He nodded. May have even said yes.
Third kid, and still I fell for it; I am so naïve.
As I read the morning news, chomping down on my final
few bites, a faint noise came from the family room, just a few steps behind me.
Uh-oh, he said. Uh-oh, I thought.
As I turned around, he stood pointing at the area rug,
the area in question obscured by the large lounger we keep in the room to
collect all manner of little kid filth.
Certain that he had peed on the floor, I rounded the
corner into my boy’s vicinity, when what to my wandering eyes should appear?
But a couple of turds straight from his rear!
That’s right, the boy done went and pooped on the
floor. Within three feet of the potty too.
Yes, the little guy is growing up. Getting bigger,
bolder every day.
Bold enough to drop a deuce on the living room floor.
Now that’s just crappy.
Signed,
The Family Man Muser
OMG, you have me in tears, I laughed so much.
ReplyDeleteMom
hahahaha boys will be boys....when and where they want.. Aunt Wendy
ReplyDeleteI was really hoping the $4 potty was the ticket!! I feel your time is near!
ReplyDeleteToo funny!! I should have read this before we babysat last weekend to be prepared ahead of time. Thanks for my daily laugh!! Just can't help but LOVE BIG BEN..diapers and all!! Gram xo
ReplyDelete