Cup-O-Toilet
Back in the day, I’d heard boys were a little harder to potty train than girls. Pffffffft. Whatever. I only peed my bed until I was 22. What’s the big deal?
Ah, experience. The Master Teacher.
Now, with Little Dude hitting four years old, I see the inherent wisdom and warning of little boy potty difficulty. While Numero Uno isn’t ever a problem (despite some pretty entertaining dances/punches to the loins Little Dude does to keep the pee in) we’ve been having a tough time with the “If you need to go poop, GO” concept. Inexplicably, Little Dude fights with all his might to keep his little pruney locked up and away from the toilet bowl, which usually leads to a messy bum and cleaning poop pancakes out of sad and defeated underpants. We’ve tried bribery (which works… until the bribe is received), consequences (you’ll lose your “T-walker”/bike riding, etc.) but the chunky skids keep piling up in sporadic bursts.
With a couple recent violations resulting in both Little Dude’s birthday presents locked away in cold storage until he “poops without being told to”, the situation has been tenuous. But yesterday lightened the load, so to speak.
Joshua was taking a shower and I went in to check on him. On swinging open the glass door, I was smacked in the face with a whiff of poop sauna, which meant one of two things: A) Little Dude had a spot of gas B), Little Dude was fighting to “get the turtle back in the shell”. Potentially despairing, I first gave him the benefit of the doubt… until I looked down at the threshold and saw a small nugget.
“What is that!?” I despaired.
Little Dude guiltily smiled. “I don’t knooooow…”
“Yes you do. What is that.”
“A rock.”
“Don’t lie to me, buddy. What. Is. That.”
“A rock, see?” Little Dude picked up the nugget and squished it between his fingers. Feigning surprise, his face twisted up in faux revulsion, “Eeeeeeeew. It’s squishy!”
Sternly and disappointingly, I let Little Dude know he was in for it. “That’s because it’s poop! Get. Out.”
Of course, in my head I’m more awed thinking, “Ok, Little Dude just picked up and handled a poop nugget and two- where’s the rest of it?” Trying to maintain my authoritarian resolve, I walked into the “water closet” to grab some excavational TP. When I got back, Little Dude was proudly holding up the green cup he keeps in the shower to rinse off, stack cars in and throw water around.
No. Way.
NO. WAY!
Oh yes.
I tipped the cup to see what I knew I didn’t want to… and inside was a turd.
Little Dude hadn’t made it to the toilet, so he did the next best thing and pooped in a cup. How is it possible to be mad at that? It’s pure Genius.
HILARIOUS!!!!!!!!
Oh my gosh! That is so funny/disgusting! He actually told me about some of this today. He said his papa won’t give his T-walker back unless he goes poop in the toilet. He failed to mention the poop in the cup though. Maybe he was embarrassed. About handling poop. I don’t think I have ever typed that word so much.
Dan you need to be the token male columnist for a parenting magazine.
Well I have to say that is a smart kid! That is a great story! There is nothing this kid could do that wouldn’t be cute.. As gross as touching poop is, it still is a cute story, just because of that cute little face that did it!