Pee Talk

Last week, my four-year-old daughter, who has been potty-trained for two years, peed on the floor in front of her time-out spot, which is in an out of the way corner in the dining room. She came to tell me in a calm voice, “Mom, I peed on the floor in there. Sorry, it was just an accident.” However, I can’t help but feel that she was trying to send me a message, and I believe it goes something like this: take your time-outs and piss off. What confuses me is not her clever and messy message, but the fact that she doesn’t realize she has already won the time-out battle.

Have you ever been to a rodeo and seen the part where the kids try to lasso a goat? That is a good representation of me attempting to put her in time-out, but in our scenario I am usually inappropriately dressed (I get why the belt has become a staple of the cowboy ensemble), and she is the fastest, most cunning, most daring little goat that the West has ever seen.  Also, since we believe in lasso-free parenting (for now), even if I catch her, I can’t exactly keep her there. Pissing on the floor in front of time-out was not necessary, but she did it anyway . . . because she could.

The deliberate nature of her so-called accident is supported by this child’s ability to “hold it” for unreasonably long periods of time. She never wets her bed, and on car trips she is capable of traversing entire states without having to stop and go. If she ever becomes an astronaut and needs to drive from Texas to Florida to terrorize an ex-boyfriend and his new lady, she will not need to wear a diaper because she can hold it the entire way. Also, I hope the popularity of the bladder bust is revitalized by the time she gets to college because I want her to have every possible chance to succeed.

My son is the opposite. When he says he has to go, it generally means we have under a minute to get him to a bathroom or at least just off the carpet. When he was potty-training, my husband would take him outside, and they would pee all over our yard. When we are travelling, and my son says he has to go, my husband just pulls over on the side of the road, and lets him piss on the shoulder of the highway or in someone’s front yard. The world is his toilet. One of the big selling points about our mini-van for my husband is that he can open the side door and let him pee without even having to get out. I hope they have never done it while the van is in motion, but I am sure it something they have both considered.

My son also likes to pee on things, over things, and in groups. This summer, we were on the Blue Ridge Parkway, and we walked out on a boardwalk near the highest point. We looked out at the mountains’ dark blue silhouettes in the distance and down at the rocky terrain sloping away underneath. My son looked at me and said, “I want to pee off it.”

I let him.

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