Paper beats rock and diaper


I love everything about my son.

Everything but his butt-hole.

I know I’m not the first father to complain about his kid pooping. Kids poop. Fathers complain about it. It’s the circle of life.

But I adulted up and did what I had to do. Pretty soon changing diapers became just another thing I did. Like paying taxes, but slightly less demoralizing.

Potty training became a priority once he started talking. I didn’t mind cleaning up after him, but I didn’t like him asking questions while I did so.

I must not have done much research though. It turns out even after they start doing their business on the potty chair, you’re still in charge of paperwork. And now they’re talking better so they’ve moved on from asking questions to criticizing your technique .

But now, wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles, fiddler of fiddlers (I think that’s how the song goes), he’s started wiping himself! I know that I only get 5 exclamations point a year, but this is totally worth using one.

Now granted, he doesn’t have the decades of wiping experience that I have, so he just goes with what feels right. I can respect that, but what feel right appears to be all of the toilet paper. He must figure, if there’s that much butt stuff there, he must be supposed to use it.

And of course, he can remember every time I ever said he could have a cookie but didn’t give him one but he can’t remember to flush so basically every time I walk into my son’s bathroom it looks like a mummy took a dump in there instead of a three-year-old.

And of course, buried under this massive wad of toilet paper is a couple of the smallest, most well behaved poops I’ve ever seen this kid produce. Where were those during diaper time?

So now - for the most part, there are still times he forgets - my waste management responsibilities have been reduced to flushing up afterwards and occasionally chasing a giggling, pantsless kid with a fist full of toilet paper.

It’s been nice.

So that’s where I am. There’s a light at the end of this long stinky tunnel.

I just hope I can make it before he turns 10. Neither of us want that.

1 comment:

Ann Shinney said...

the fun never ends