This is one of the many posts where I complain about the men in my house. I complain because I grew up with 3 sisters and a father who knew better than to get in our way. He had his space, we had our space and frankly, I think we are all the better for it. I am going to gloss over the fact that I know how a men’s room smells at the end of a concert.
That being said, I now realize that my father was either a relatively clean person in his bathroom or my mother was cleaning the bathroom every day. I just don’t remember the nastiness that is my world today.
K: Did you let The Boy stand up to pee when I was gone?
D: We didn’t do so great in the “peeing” department while you were gone.
Not to be confused with not doing so great in the “getting to sleep before 10″ department, “doing the dishes from last Wednesday still in the sink” department or “keeping track of The Boy’s only pair of sandals” department. I know exactly how things go around here when I am gone. Last night at 9 I heard hysterical laughter from The Boy’s room. I had to go upstairs to tell the two of them to “cut it out now and go to sleep.” The Boy AND my husband.
But back to the urine. Cause that’s really why we are all here, isn’t it? Just last year I used to enter my sister’s bathroom every single time with paper towels in one hand and 409 in the other. This being an hour after she cleaned it. She explained that this was just the world of boys.
So I thought I would combat this by making my son sit when he goes to the bathroom. It’s not the aiming problem. It’s that he is just too little to pee standing up. He is a bit of a diminutive child to be honest. His solution is to stand on the toilet seat. And then it becomes an aiming problem. I have listened to the arguments from the defendant’s counsel and I have found no merit in them.
But when Mama’s away, her boys will play. I came home to a bathroom that took my breath away when I entered it. The two of them didn’t seem to notice.
Thank you, God, for Clorox wipes. If only I could use them on the boys.