Pee A River

Pee, it comes with boys. I had a plan. Somehow I got my husband to agree on the plan, until my brother blew my plan to bits. I was going to teach my boys to sit when they peed. Yes, I realize there may have been severe psychological implications that would have required therapy, but I was willing to take the risk.

First, I’d like to point out that their extra appendage was highly valuable to them at an early age. The moment their hands gained enough control to seek out and rub, they did. And with a smile on their faces.

The next big step was peeing. The sheer amazement at their Olympic feats held them in awe.

Once I made the mistake of thinking my son could pee and think at the same time. I walked past the bathroom and asked him a question. He answered promptly. He also turned his entire body to face me, and kept peeing. My screams likely scared more pee to escape all over the bathroom. His inability to multitask was apparent at an early age. Pee and think at the same time; what was I thinking?

However, as they got older, the pee missing the bowl didn’t decrease. In fact, the problem worsened. I tried everything, stools to stand on, cheerios in the water to aim at, hell, I was just shy of buying a tank of goldfish to use as flushable targets. Anything to help improve their aim.

I took the advice of a friend and purchased sanitary wipes and told the boys to clean their own pee. And then something happened…Everything that is wrong with men, and elevates women to a higher species, occurred. They looked at me like I was crazy and replied, “Gross, I’m not touching my pee.”

I was able to end one bit of insanity. They used to run into the bathroom and pee at the same time. Do I really need to explain what happened? I’m sure you have a visual of the nightmare.

I still hold the dream that clean toilets, bathroom floors, and surrounding walls are in my future. As the boys get older, taller, and their playmates get longer, the situation must get better.

Though, there is the morning problem and middle of the night problem that I call the cantilever. I know they are aware of the thing because they sleep with their hands in their pants, holding onto the damn thing for dear life. So when they wake to pee, how is it possible they aren’t aware that they need to push the fucking plank down? Oh no, my no-pee-touching, half-asleep boys will stand somewhere in the vicinity of the toilet bowl, arch their backs, and let it flow. One would think that hearing the stream hit the back of the toilet seat would be a big hint…But again, no multitasking abilities, whatsoever.

My last resort is to build a stainless steel room with a hole in the ground, or better yet, a troth. That, or trade them in for girls.