There was an…incident, on Monday.
Will was watching Handy Manny on TV, happily enjoying his morning milk when Nature called to me. So I walked to the bathroom and I started to pee. And since we’re slowly trying to get Will used to the idea of going in the potty, I’ve been instructed to leave the door open when I’m peeing so Will can watch (and hopefully emulate) me.
Truthfully, it’s somewhat difficult to “perform” when someone is watching you intently and chronicling your every move. Sort of like prison, I imagine.
So I’m in the habit of leaving the door open when I pee, and Will usually follows me in there. But seeing as it was so early in the morning, I really wasn’t paying attention. And because he was in his ultra soft and comfy feety pajamas, I didn’t hear him walk over to me.
Suddenly, in my sleepy haze and right in the middle of peeing, I hear a cute little voice chirp “Dada, pee pee?” It caught me off guard. But not nearly as much as when Will decided to prove to me that he knew exactly what a pee pee was, by pointing at it.
Except…well…he got a little too close when he pointed.
Yup. He put his hand in the stream. All of a sudden piss was spraying everywhere. I didn’t help matters by momentarily freaking out and shifting my position. Just in case you ladies haven’t heard, stopping in mid-stream is painful and quite honestly it takes a few seconds to turn the hose off. That means when I turned, I got more piss on my son, myself and my surroundings.
You can read all you want about potty training, but there is no section about what to do when you accidentally urinate on your own son. I checked.
Maybe I’m the one who needs to be potty trained.