Today was, well, full of urine. A lot more than I thought it was going to be.
There is a large amount of potty training going on over here, but it is A) Not easy, B) those things they say to throw in the potty for aiming purposes are USELESS and C) possibly easier with girls.
Not that I will admit it. Since I don’t have one. But. There are all those other factors of ‘aiming’, ‘standing’ and then an added genetic factor of ‘stubborn’.
Is it? Easier, I mean? I have heard too many conflicting stories about this type of garbage.
Today had a lot of incidences. Well, really it was this whole weekend. Vince was, apparently, feeling very non-cooperative.
Yesterday he told me while I was watering the plants:
“Mummy! I peepee’d!!!”
“Oh? Great.” (GREAT. That was a sarcastic ‘great’ by the way)
We were outside, on the front porch. Vince looked rather nonchalant. There was a slightly yellow puddle underneath him on our white-painted front porch, one that was encroaching on the shoes he’d dropped and heading slowly for the next step.
And honestly? All I could think of was “Well, that’s typical”.
Upstairs we went to clean up, he didn’t even care. And it was rather slapshot for the rest of the day.
And today was the same. Pee in your car, Mummy? Sure!! Why not!! Make you thank all that is Holy that you had enough Clan of the Cave Bear foresight to bring a spare set of pants?
Ayla-style, that is!
Oh Urine. I will not let you be my master. I will dominate you. Not in a gross kind of way, you sickos. SICKOS!
Just, you know, hoping for less pee in my life…