Today, my child peed on me. Not my diapered child. The potty trained one. This took skill on his part and ignorance on mine. Alas, another experience has made me smarter.
We spent the night at the home of some good friends who also have two small children. There were four kids under the age of three; four adults; and several bottles of wine. We predicted pure chaos, and were looking forward to the adventure, but our night went very smoothly. (The wine went down that way, too.)
Harrison woke at his usual ungodly hour of 4:10 am, and we had some quiet play time while the rest of the house slept. I’m just kidding. My kid is a maniac and he found all of the loud toys in the house, then proceeded to use them in rapid succession until he had some playmates.
My friend and I were enjoying some coffee while our little darlings played, when Harrison asked to use the bathroom. I was relishing in the glory of the fact that at least one of my kids didn’t require diapers. I thought about how simple it was to just saunter off to the bathroom with my little one rather than tote around all of the crap that goes with babies-who-don’t-pee-on-toilets.
I had to juggle putting Harrison on the toilet while I watched Ella toddle toward the bathroom door. In preparation for her arrival, I turned to shut the door, when all of a sudden, I was showered with a warm spray of urine.
I screamed and quickly tried to avert the stream, but it was too late. I had already been covered in pee, and after assessing the situation, I realized that the entire bathroom was coated as well. My dear boy who has been using the toilet seamlessly for months forgot to tuck himself in at the toilet, and made a mess of our friends’ restroom. Meanwhile, I couldn’t figure out how to divert my curious little girl from the mess, so, in a tiny half bath, I was soaked head to toe with pee, my daughter was stepping in puddles of urine, and my son wasn’t exactly sure what all the chaos was about. I guarantee you that he WILL be standing to pee from now on.