“Daddy, I have to go…”
Of course we’ve all heard this (well, I guess moms haven’t, but you get my point). It’s amazing how it still sends terror into the hearts of men, as they begin to rush towards any bathroom they can find before a tragedy happens – this panic can happen even in the home, where the location of the bathroom is very well known, especially to guys.
I have moved pretty much past that level of panic, at least in my house. Our little one now goes right to her potty seat and can go for a week without any accidents – and fortunately, those involve only Number One. But I did have to get a little exercise about two weeks ago, when she was not using the seat regularly and liked also to alternate between the big bowl and the potty seat.
My oldest, almost six now, announced her need to go, and asked me to come down to the basement to help with the, um, well, you know what happens with Number Two, I don’t have to get into it here. I said okay, I’ll follow you. This is our usual custom, since she does like a few minutes to read, like the rest of us, but before I could get down the stairs, the little one announced that she had to go, and was heading upstairs to the bathroom. She need a little help getting on, so I gave her a hand… and then she announced she wanted her privacy and told me to leave!
So there I was, running up and down, checking on two little girls, one in each bathroom, neither of them really needing me until that very last moment just before body parts start to fall asleep! Eventually everyone was washed up and ready for pajama time, and dad managed to burn a few extra calories to boot.
I’m thinking of using this idea at my next Weight Watchers meeting; I think there’s a marketing ploy in here somewhere…