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It was requested some time ago that I do an article on potty training. Fine, I thought, I am sure I can find someone to write one for me. Which I have. No problem. But as you have probably realised, I like to tie my column in with the theme of the article… and well what can I say about potty training… except that I haven’t tried it yet! Megan has a potty… she knows what it’s for and has even very proudly used it once or twice, diligently pouring the contents all over the toilet seat when she was done in an effort to flush it away (and we even had to carry it around the house to show Daddy how clever we were). But other than that, there is not much I can say about potty training as such. Megan is after all not even two yet, and in this weather, well there’s no chance of letting her run around with her cute behind catching the breeze.
What I can do, however, is tell you a little story on the subject of toilet matters. Something that happened to someone my husband knows. (Note: this is not an urban legend. What you are about to read is a true re-enactment of actual events). Picture the scene. Upmarket grocery store (you know the one I’m talking about). Picture book family: Mommy, Daddy, little boy, baby girl. Mommy pushing trolley in queue with baby girl strapped into baby chair. Daddy and little boy trundling up and down aisles trying to keep little boy entertained (shops are very boring for toddlers, but that’s another chapter entirely).
Little boy
pipes up: “Dad-deeee, I need to weeeee!”
“Yes, Son,” Daddy replies, “Mommy is just paying, then
we can go look for a toilet.”
“But Dad-deeeeeee, I got to go nooow!”
“Just wait, we are almost at the beginning of the queue. Can’t
you just hold it for five minutes?”
(Cue little boy to start jiggling like a grasshopper on caffeine, holding
his hands between his legs).
“Noo-oh. I gotta go! Nooow Dadddddeeee!”
(Cue Daddy to start looking a bit agitated, pretending that jiggly son
does not exist as fellow shoppers start peering around to see what the
commotion is behind them.)
“Just wait!” he hisses in little boy’s direction. “Two
more minutes!”
Silence ensues. Little boy stops fidgeting and seemingly accepts the two
minute wait. Daddy sighs with relief, happy that attention is off the
little family. Daddy starts paging through car magazine while waiting
for the queue to move. Mommy wipes teething biscuit off baby girl’s
fingers with already overused biscuity wetwipe. Order restored. Until…
Little boy nonchalantly pulls down tracksuit pants and lets go of full
bladder into the nearest tray of imported dairy milk bonbons. Said bonbons
are quickly loaded into the trolley, paid for, packeted. No mess, no fuss.
Family quickly makes for the carpark, unloads trolley and children, and
head for home. Matter closed. And Daddy has learnt an important lesson
in toddlerdom: when you gotta go, you gotta go now!
It is for this reason that, for now, I am happy with the status quo. Quite
frankly having Megan in nappies is nice and convenient – I dread
the day when I am in the middle of Pick n’ Pay when she decides that
she needs to go. Having to leave the trolley in the middle of aisle 4,
find someone to tell me where the toilets are, trek there and back, and
then finally get shopping done. But I know I will get there – and
soon I think. Megan definitely has an awareness of what is happening –
and often tells me when she is about to go. I have even witnessed her
picking up a present from the dog with a tissue and throwing it in the
toilet – and even closing the lid and flushing, so they really do
learn by imitation! And lucky for me she has regular habits (too much
information?) so nappies really are the most convenient, and until the
potty training starts, I will just keep on “pampering” her!
So hold your breath, Meggie Muggles, this bumcream’s cold!
© Sally Hetherington .
