Sometimes children hold it a little too long, engrossed in some interesting game, and when they finally make that mad dash to the nearest toilet, it just isn't enough time. That's what happened to The Boy last week. While we were having a neighborhood meeting in the living room -- right next to the teeny, tiny powder room.
It proceeded something as follows:
Justin: Blah blah blah neighborhood. Boring boring blah blah.
Running feet pounding towards the bathroom. The door slams.
I think: Thank goodness he remembered to close the bathroom door this time.
Fumbling noise, followed by sounds of peeing, followed by screams.
The Boy: Mom! Mommy! I peed all over the floor! Help!!!!
Lots of adults in the room next door snickering silently.
Then I checked on him, went upstairs got a change of clothes, wedged myself into the very little bathroom with the boy, a change of clothes, a lot of paper towels and some floor cleaner. When he had to go, he really had to go. Let's just imagine an uncontrolled firehose. There was no dry place to step, no room for two people, and because a meeting was going on next door, I couldn't open the door and shove the naked, wet boy out the door while I cleaned. But somehow it got done and we have the world's cleanest bathroom floor now.
For the rest of the weekend, if I even thought he might be considering a run to the bathroom in the next hour, I sent him there immediately. I don't really want to go through that again.
And in other potty news, The Girl is still not trained, but she does poop on the potty every few days. It's a start I suppose. I also suppose if I made any effort she'd be out of diapers. It's just that effort requires work.