a friend of mine asked the other day when i’m gonna start potty training the budge. i said he can shit his pants ‘til he’s 10 for all i care.
lu’s been using the potty for about a year now. it was a cinch; we bribed her with stickers on a potty chart, and she peed and pooped like a champ.
but eventually we had to leave the house and expose our sweet baby to the horror of public restrooms. puddn calls me a germophobe, but whatever…this is coming from a guy who hasn’t washed his hands in 3 weeks. anyway, have you seen the stalls at bed, bath and beyond? i’d rather crap my pants than sit my bare butt on those seats.
so a couple of weeks ago, stinks had to “go poop real, real bad” while i was shopping for a new wardrobe at target. we sprinted to the john, i chose the stall with the least amount of visible human excrement, wiped a stranger’s pee off the seat, then tried to cover it with one of those tissue thingies. i like to pretend that a thin piece of tissue paper is a real barrier to germs.
“hurry, mama, i gotta poo poo real bad.” i was also dangling the 28-pound budge in a sling in front of me. he was screaming, pulling my hair, and touching/trying to lick everything in sight. i was drenched in sweat.
after the third tissue cover fell in, i layered toilet paper all over the seat. lu pulled her skirt and undies down (why on earth she can’t ever pull the damn skirt up is beyond me), and they hit the floor, soaking up urine and stds. i almost chucked them, but damnit, it’s a janie & jack skirt and i’m a cheapass. oh, and i didn’t bring her a change of clothes.
when i plopped her down on the now-quilted seat, she grabbed both sides of the bowl to steady herself, which were, of course, wet with liquid filth. “mom, I go’ed poop!” she said, putting her hands in her mouth.
now if a bathroom is especially repulsive, like the ones at CVS, i hold her little butt above the toilet (still holding the budge in my sling). “mama, look! i sprayed pee pee all over your jeans.”
but wait, there’s more. sometimes she’s gotta use it when we’re in the car. so i bought a cute, plastic, portable potty called the “potette.” it folds up small enough to fit in my purse. yes, i carry a toilet in my purse. shaddap.
when lu’s gotta go, i pull over and she squats on the potette on the side of the road. then i fold up the seat, stick it in a bag, and shove it back in my purse. don’t ask how many times i’ve washed it. or why most of my shoes have stains.
recently i’d just strapped both kids in the car after spending about a thousand dollars at whole foods, and stinks announced she had to go. there was no way I was trekking back in there to use that digusting bathroom (btw, don’t you think whole foods can afford to have a decent restroom? jesus). so i whipped out the potette, made sure no one was looking, and made my sweet baby girl take a dump between two cars. you try living with that guilt.
here’s the deal: just don’t do it. potty training is totally overrated. just let your kids stay blissfully in diapers, peeing and pooping wherever and whenever they please. trust me, it’ll make everyone’s life easier. and you’ll never have flashbacks to your kid crapping in a bag in the whole foods parking lot.