This morning I attempted to train young Jane in the ways of the toilet. She's a bright young lady. I figured I could teach her a new trick. It did not end well.
We sat together in the bathroom, she perched on the toilet, I on an undersized red chair, for well over an hour. She read 30 children's books of various length; I enjoyed a good number of articles from Friday's edition of The New York Times. I pledged a bounty of chocolate chips if she released anything into the water below. The offer clearly enticed her.
I ran the sink water to set the mood. I had her tickle her back to relax the muscles. She drank more juice than I've ever seen her drink. I made hissing sounds. We made fists and grunted together. I begged her to join society and to celebrate indoor plumbing. She was content to sit and read.
I understand the draw of enjoying literature in the restroom. The serenity of the enclosure tempts me every time. Sometimes a crossword puzzle, other times a magazine, still other times a legal document. I know I'm not the first person to bill his time while in the men's room at the office. And I believe Reader's Digest is published specifically for restroom enjoyment. I'm not sure I've ever read Reader's Digest outside the bathroom. Humor in Uniform has many laxative qualities.
Eventually Jane started to complain that her rear was hurting. In truth, it was starting to turn red from the seat. I let her off the toilet, not wanting for this experience to scar her, but predicting that she would do her business within moments of me putting a diaper on her. I was wrong.
As soon as she stepped off the toilet, and before I could apply a diaper, she squatted on the bathroom rug and urinated. After all that juice, what did I expect. My amusement overshadowed my frustration. This is going to be more difficult than I anticipated.
Humor in Uniform has a laxative quality. That may be the funniest line I have heard you conjure up. In the blogging world please do not ONWs. It is one of your many qualities, I hope law school has not sucked your ability to free write from you. And judging by this latest entry, it has not. Remind me not to touch any of Jane's books when I get out there, they've been flagged, I wont be able to read them. The homeless wont even touch them. Well, I surely do hope that Jane can master the task of defecation and urination (in the toilet). Some of the best thinking goes on in the WC. In fact I think that's where Einstein did most of his thinking. Theory of realativity, E=mc^2, I believe he was sitting atop his throne when he came across those beauties. Well, please keep us highly informed of Jane's movements.
ReplyDeleteYour description of potty training brought back a flood of memories. I believe bribbery is the the only way to induce potty training success. First, try bird stickers on the back of the bathroom door, next, M&M's, Skittles, coloring books, Disney videos, McDonalds Happy Meals, any toy from Toys R Us, a bike, water babies, barbies, beanie babies, Beauty and the Beast action figures, matchbox cars, sleepovers with cousins, and finally, if all else fails, an offer for a trip to Disneyland if she will just go potty once in toilet!!!
ReplyDeleteJust curious.. Did Kelli even use diapers or was she born 5 years ahead of herself? I remember her always acting like she was older than she really was.
ReplyDeleteShe thought she was Kate and I's mother... She probably thought she was too big to use diapers the day she was born.
Alli. All babies use diapers. Try reading a book about infancy. It's simple-babies can't control their bladders at that age.
ReplyDeleteYou aren't a normal person.
ReplyDeleteActually I am.
ReplyDelete