…and not a drop to…wait a minute.
Ollie has been potty trained for so long, that we often don’t even think to bring extra clothes with us. Therefore, it was a little disconcerting when Oliver started having accidents several times a day for a few days. I don’t think it is unusual to have the occasional minor set-back, but it just kept catching us off guard. We kept thinking, “Well, of course we don’t have to worry about him having another accident, he just had one.”
This is why, after he had a “small” accident, we decided to go to the mall anyway. However, we at least had the common sense to take him directly to the potty.
Sara went in with him and got him situated, sitting on the potty. You know how public toilets have that U-shaped toilet seat on them? Well, you see, Ollie’s not real good at aiming, and with him sitting on the potty facing forward, that missing section of toilet seat was *just enough* of a gap, that when he let fly, it came shooting right out of the toilet and onto the floor.
“Stop, Ollie, stop!” Sara cried, immediately doing the splits to avoid the growing pool on the floor. But stop he did not, and maybe couldn’t, because he obviously had a full bladder.
“What? What Mama? What is going on??” shouted Evie from where she was standing outside of the stall, unable to see what all the shouting was about. Slowly the urine pool turned into a urine lake. Once he was finally on empty, Sara had to deal with a freaked out Evie, mop up the mess on the floor, and then discover that Oliver had also gone all over the back of his pants. She was not having what you would call a good day.
Meanwhile, I had returned some clothes and was waiting obliviously out in the hallway, wondering what was taking them so long.
It was time to beat a hasty retreat from the mall. We had promised the kids that they could play in the little play area after they went to the potty, but we had to back out on that promise as I tried to hold a pee-soaked Oliver out away from my body and retreated in a half-walk, half-run to the car. Evie was not very appreciative of our dilemma, and was demanding to play (after all, *her* pants weren’t soaked in urine).
Afterwards, Oliver sheepishly confided in Sara, “You said stop, but I didn’t stop.”
2 thoughts on “Urine, urine, everywhere…”
Probably why I had friends who had their little boys sit backwards on the toilet.
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