Penises = not mysterious.
I’m trying not to have a bad attitude towards penises. Really, I never had anything against them before. They can be quite fun at times! However, after 3 days of The Kid’s potty training I am having trouble seeing them as little more than a drain spigot. While this is how it should be when one is dealing with a toddler, I am having trouble translating the “wang = urine elimination device” into anything else. I try to picture a wang on, say, someone who I’m *not* trying to bribe to sit on the toilet, and it is just another body part. Like ooh sexy. An elbow. Yay. Kneecap. Whoopee. Wang. It doesn’t help that the only non-potty training wang I have in my life has been gone to Florida for work for 2 weeks and will not return for another week.
Now before you go calling Child Services on me (OH MY GOD SHE’S HINTING ABOUT SEX WHILE TALKING ABOUT POTTY TRAINING! WHAT KIND OF PERVERT DOES THAT ON THE INTERNET?!?!?)– what I am saying is that whatever allure and/or mystique the human penis ever had for me is gone now, having had to stare at a tiny one for probably 1/3 of my workday today. On the plus side, the Kid peed in the potty more times than we were accurately able to track on his Potty Chart. On the downside, I may never be able to have sex again because all I can think of at the moment is The Kid singing the hastily written Potty Song to the tune of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” (tentatively titled “Tinkle Tinkle Little Pee”) while happily swinging his legs in time and alternately yelling “I *AM* THINKING POTTY THOUGHTS!!!”
If you are squeamish about reading this article, you probably have never had to teach a young male how to pee in the potty. This is not an easy-breezy oh-let-me-have-a-cup-of-tea activity. It requires constant vigilance while the party in question is both on and off the potty. It requires a lot of staring with enthusiasm (I’ll admit after the 18th time today much of it was feigned simply because I was burned out on yelling HOLY COW, YOU PEED IN THE POTTY! AWESOME! LET’S GO GET A STICKER!!! YOU RULE!!! etc. etc.) at a pants-less kid sitting on the bowl while he gleefully admonishes you to watch him urinate. It involves a lot of intense scrutiny as you watch a kid while he’s playing for signs of the dreaded “potty dance” and then try to rush him to the throne before it’s too late and yet another pair of Batman undies must get thrown in the wash.
I’ll admit watching The Kid pee the first several times was a little difficult, simply because urination as a spectator sport is not the kind of activity I normally engage in and/or enjoy. Originally, The Kid demanded privacy in order to complete his waste elimination tasks, which was perfectly fine with me. Now, because he enjoys the massive adulation, he commands me to watch, lest I miss any amazing potty mastering feat. Now it’s just another activity. Should I be alarmed that I am desensitized to watching the elimination of waste in action? I guess it’s like barf, snot, poop, and all the other fluids constantly being secreted from small children– you develop an immunity to their inherent grossness pretty fast. Good thing too, or the human race would have died out from choking on its own snot or drowned to death in a sea of pee while aspirating on its own puke eons ago.
Because we want this kid out of diapers sometime before he goes to college, I’ll admit I’ll pretty much do anything to get him to go on the potty, possibly even if it means living the remainder of my life in celibacy. Sigh. So much for having a job you don’t take home with you!
Entry filed under: The Kid.