I am absolutely not kidding when I say that I am sitting here on my couch, looking out my picture window into the backyard and watching my almost 3 year old son, Jack, trying desperately to pull his pants off and pee into his wading pool. Man, I wish I had that kind of determination.
He wants it.
Badly.
He is ripping at his waistband with a vengeance. I can actually see the veins popping out on his forehead as he tugs and pulls. Down go his shorts.
Oh, crap, the diaper. I have to say, those disposable diaper companies knew what they were doing when they added Velcro to their diaper tabs. That’s really stumping him.
He’s just about given up. Oh, I really want to go out and help him. I feel like I should reward his motivation and resolve. You don’t see that kind of perseverance very often anymore, you know?
But then the “mom” part of me wins out and realizes that if he succeeds I will have to clean urine out of the pool, again.
Sorry, dude.
Brandy says
Don’t you wish you knew how many times he’s peed and WHERE?
Mindy says
Oh, God. I know. =)