Wednesday, February 8, 2012

That's just crappy

(LIVING ROOM) — My boy, my man, my son. My little dude. My buddy. The little guy is growing up. Getting bigger, bolder every day. He talks and talks and talks, my little dude does, always quick to let us know what he does and does not want.

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.

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

4 comments:

  1. OMG, you have me in tears, I laughed so much.

    Mom

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  2. hahahaha boys will be boys....when and where they want.. Aunt Wendy

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  3. I was really hoping the $4 potty was the ticket!! I feel your time is near!

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  4. Too 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

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