As a professional child-care provider, I'm no stranger to mystery liquids, unexplained sticky clumps of something, and sometimes scooping healthy dollops of kitty regurgitation off of a couch cushion.
That been said, it should come as no surprise to you, dear reader, that this urination degradation happened, and frankly, I myself, am shocked it didn't happen sooner.
When caring for little boys of the potty-training age, you learn quickly that you should treat the mention of "pee-pee" or "potty" like a fire alarm. You have a very small, very precious, window of time to hurry the pull-ups patron to the bathroom--or you will be faced with soggy shorts and humiliation, for all involved.
I was babysitting a newcomer to the potty-trained world so my ears were alert and ready for pee-pee go time.
"Do you need to go potty?" I asked every fifteen minutes.
"No, never," was the reply. This made me nervous. Why never? Why not just: "no, not right now, thank-you for asking, I'll inform you as soon as I feel like I might need to." This one needed to be monitored carefully...
Sure as Rebecca Black "gotta have cereal," potty time came...He ran to the bathroom as fast as his little tootsies could carry him.
"Help me Jiewian," he pleaded, and so I did.
The last time he tried to stand up and pee into the toilet bowl, he ended up peeing all over the toilet, his shorts, laying so unsuspectingly at his feet, and the floor. In order to avoid all that, this time, I decided to try something new.
"Let's try sitting on the potty," I suggested, confident in the execution of my plan.
So he sat on the toilet, and I sat across from him on the rim of the bathtub, holding his little hands while he balanced himself and started to pee.
All was well, at first. The little boy then began to sway to and fro, and consequently, so did the stream of pee. I tried to steady him, but trying to control toddler tinkle is like me trying to not laugh when my dog farts and scares himself...almost impossible.
He teetered back--and the pee was free. Free on my arms, free on my knees and free on my feet. I can remember saying, "Ohhh no!" Oh dear!!! Ahhhhh!!" But the boy's older brother (who was gaming in the other room) decided against checking out the sounds of alarm coming from the bathroom. A learned behavior? Did he know what was going on, and just knew that he wanted absolutely no involvement? Or was that level of Peggle simply too engrossing to pause? Regardless, I was on my own -- marinating in the result of two-sippy cups of chocolate milk and my own flawed engineering.
The little boy also managed to pee on himself, so I plopped him in the tub, and went on a search for cleaning products. The mother of the household is a very responsible mother, and keeps anything potentially harmful locked away behind child-safety-locked cabinets.
Ten minutes later -- I'm pleading with the plastic contraption on the cupboard to cease its magical hold so I can clean the bathroom floor, and myself, to no avail.
While the tinkler was merrily splishing and splashing around in the tub with toy boats and duckies--I ended up cleaning off the floor with the antibacterial hand wipes found on the counter and cleaning myself off with Softsoap.
