On Christmas Day, my son Frankie will be exactly 22 months old, so basically a grown man. As such, I have very high expectations of him which include, but are not limited to, doing things I can brag about on this blog. Fortunately he has my genes so he excels at everything.
Research says that most kids are physically and emotionally ready to start toilet training between 22 and 30 months. I also read that boys are typically a few months behind girls which I assume to be utter nonsense because, well, I’m male and look at me. So, my wife and I had decided to begin toilet training when Frankie turned 2 but we did put some things in place much earlier.
Back in August we bought a potty and put it out for him to “get used to”, which took approximately 30 seconds from the moment I opened the box.
They say that some kids are intimidated by or scared of the potty, but how a small plastic chair becomes the stuff of your child’s nightmares is beyond me.
Are there toddler classes that teach wussiness?
Is there a “Beware Of Unthreatening Inanimate Object” book series?
Do ‘The Wiggles’ have a song that goes
“Hot potato, hot potato. Cold spaghetti, cold spaghetti. Dangerous potty, dangerous potty”?
I choose to believe that I don’t live in a world where any child has to fear a potty. In fact, if your youngster is terrified of the toilet, I volunteer F4 to come over and fearlessly sit on it to prove to them that you suck at parenting.
Although we’ve not yet started formal potty training, we have been encouraging him to sit on it. Most of the time he’s clothed, or at least in a diaper, but on occasion he’s full birthday suit when he chills. 90% of when he squats on the pot is when we’re brushing our teeth because it’s important that he understands efficiency. In fact, I’m writing this blog on the toilet while simultaneously brushing my teeth, Snapchatting, and doing burpees. You’re not on my level.
I also call F4 into the bathroom to watch me pee and poop because I’m highly skilled at both. So the other day I didn’t think anything of it when he stood fascinated by my manly display of urination. However, a few minutes later, when Lisa asked if he wanted to go potty like daddy he sat down on his tiny plastic throne. I watched my little guy look down at his penis like —
For a moment I thought he might have fallen asleep
I wasn’t really expecting anything when suddenly down in the potty I heard pitter patter. I sprang to the floor to see what was the matter. And what to my wondering eyes did appear but beautiful spray of golden pee my dear.
My sub-2 year old son taking the initiative to go in the potty for the first time almost made me pee myself. He looked up at me and mommy with an expression that could only be seen as, “Did I do good?”
The wife and I both screamed like we’d just won the lottery. Frankie caught on and quickly realized that the answer to his question was an emphatic YES. My boy made me very, very proud. For once, I wasn’t the little crybaby that teared up over a milestone. Lisa, however, could not control her eye bladder and let out a few drops of her own. It was a few hours before we came down from our urine high and dreamed of a day when he’d poop in that very same potty.
Yeah, that happened the next day, right after he peed again. Granted, it was only one tiny turd, but he did it nonetheless. Talk about some next level shit. He went pee pee in the potty again that night and the following morning. That was 3 days ago. Since then, every time we ask if he wants to go sit on the potty he casually says “No” and keeps on keeping on. There’s part of me that wonders if he only did it to prove to me that he could. To make a point. To say, “Dad, you might be the king of all things, but I’m coming for your crown.” If that’s the case, so be it. I’d be happy to concede to my son in this Game Of (Porcelain) Thrones.
The wipe is dark and full of terrors.
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