My son is peeing all over the place.
Several months ago, I decided Henry was ready to get out of diapers. It was an item I'd included in my ridiculous list of Thirty-Nine (long abandoned and due to expire shortly), and, plus - the girls had been so easy.
Henry was totally on board. He'd run to the toilet every fifteen minutes. We did the potty dance and gave high fives and we declared to friends that Henry practically trained himself!
So smug. So stupid.
He lost interest. He didn't want to stop playing or he didn't make it on time and accidents happened frequently. Then they stopped being accidents. It's as if he was saying, 'You and your games are tiresome, woman. Piss off.'
Today, he peed in his dump truck and brought it to me.
'Pee pee truck?' he said sweetly. Pantless. 'Yeah?'
'Thank you,' I said, grateful it was only pee. Thankful it wasn't an actual dump truck.
I'm started to wonder what's cheaper - buying a carpet cleaner, renting one over and over, or sheeting everything in plastic. To make matters worse, Shutup Roxy has suddenly become an old dog. I've had both of them simu-pissing at different ends of the house, with me running and screaming and throwing towels and yelling DON'T TOUCH IT! because someone will end up in the crossfire.
Someone like Julia will come running, because I am screaming, and hit a patch of pee and go down, hard.
And then everyone gets a bath.
3 hours ago