For the past few months, any time we are in public and Holden has to unload his bowels or empty his piss-tank, and I am kind enough to offer my services and take him- he bitches.
“But I want to go in the boys bathroom! Not the girls bathroom!”
To which I have to remind him that I do not in fact have a penis, and therefore cannot take him into the boys bathroom- so it’s either go into the girls with me, or attempt to hold it, because he is not old enough or coordinated enough to be letting him wander into a bathroom alone and go for it. He then mutters under his breath and relents.
I don’t really get what the big deal is. A urinal honestly can’t be that exciting to pee in, and Holden is still at the age where when he pees, he’s dropping pants and underwear to the floor and is ass out. Doing that at a urinal, in public… well, i’d rather he didn’t.
Holden’s bare ass and testicle zone does not need to be broadcasted to complete strangers, but he has not yet hit the bashful stage. He does not care who sees it, or where he is when they’re seeing it, or how many people are around.
Not bashful, but it seems that he is becoming more aware of the fact that he IS a boy and likely shouldn’t be going into the girls bathroom, so it’s progress, right?
And it would seem that he is not alone in this new found insistence on using the boys bathroom exclusively. Perhaps it’s a “coming of age” type of thing, because while out to dinner with Mom-Troversial, this situation arose once again. She has a son, whom she calls Hurricane, about 6 months older than Holden or so, who like Holden, wants to use the boys bathroom whenever humanly possible. With dads that work, these chances are sometimes few and far between, so in the middle of dinner (like fucking usual) when Holden decided he absolutely HAD to take a wazz and wanted Thomas to take him, Mom-T jumped at the chance to send Hurricane along too… and to say the child was excited would be an understatement.
It was what happened behind that boys bathroom door that makes me glad that I have a vagina and am restricted to the door with a skirted stick figure.
You see, the bathrooms in the restaurant were small. Very small. Only two stalls and not a lot of waiting room. For some reason, it wasn’t the ladies room that was crowded last night- I guess pizza and beer makes dudes gotta go, because they were filing in and out rather quickly.
In order to expedite this entire process of having two preschoolers in the pot together (and likely to make sure neither got kidnapped or covered in urine), Thomas crammed them into one stall.
Holden went first, and apparently this made Hurricane quite uncomfortable, because he instantly went to the back corner of the stall, faced the wall, covered his eyes with both of his hands and exclaimed
“I don’t wanna see his junk!”
Being that this is the opposite of how Holden is about his neither region, Thomas was slightly puzzled, but went with it. And when it came Hurricane’s turn, he figured the kid would like some privacy to do his business so he stood behind him in the stall with Holden and waited.
Hurricane then pauses for a moment and says “I’ve got black fuzz on my junk.”
Probably similar to the reaction you’re having now, Thomas, in a state of confusion, said “what?”
And that is when bashful little Hurricane flipped around, and yells “LOOK! BLACK FUZZ!”
Confusion turned slight shock. Thomas tilts his head to one side. Sure enough, there was black fuzz. Everywhere.
The child who was too bashful to look at anything other than subway tile while another kid is taking a leak turns around and flashes his without a second thought. I guess when you’re a little kid and you find that your penis is suddenly a different color than it usually is, you might be confused enough to forget about your inhibitions- and would be a little too young to grasp the concept that new underwear has the tendency to… rub off…
It’s a very good thing I was not the one to witness this black fuzz situation, as I likely would have either pissed myself laughing or cracked my head open when I fell the fuck over from overdose of pure hilarity.
For my own health and safety, I think I will allow Holden to continue down this path of accepting his boy-ness. Hopefully soon the modesty will follow.
Dear people writing articles on ways to get siblings to get along, I'll save you the time. The answer is "Don't let them play together"
Please stop Complimenting my kids’ “Good” Behavior goo.gl/fb/rwfojS
Hard pass from me pic.twitter.com/VayvW1eopK
I've gotten to the point where I'd let my kids summon a demon with a Ouija board before I'd let them play Monopoly together again.
Parenthood is when you start counting the minutes to bed time before 11am.