A couple of days ago, Ezra went poopoo on his little potty chair. Then, about 20 minutes later, he went peepee too. We celebrated with much dancing and singing and showering of treats, and Ezra was in HOG HEAVEN. We called grandparents and Ezra excitedly brought the phone over to the potty to “show” grandma or grandpa the wonderous miracle that he had performed and told them very exuberantly:
That same day, Chris just happened to be given a little ride-on toy motorcycle for Ezra by one of his clients he was painting for, so the motorcycle (of course) became “the poopoo motorcycle”. We told him that he got the motorcycle for being such a big boy and using his potty for the first time. His eyes were as big as beach balls and he rode around on his new toy for hours without any pants on. Because he likes to celebrate commando style, you know… All classy like.
After this, he started to wonder why he had to SIT on the potty, and why he couldn’t just run around and pee on everything while standing up. So, now, it is not at all infrequent for him to run up to me while I am sitting on the floor, grab his little weewee, and go “psssssssss” while pretending to pee on me… bending his knees and arching his back like a true professional.
I calmly tell him that he isn’t supposed to pee on mommies, but on potties, and try to direct his excitement towards the desired target and away from, oh, MY FACE.
Thank goodness it is only pretend.
That was, until today, when the “pretending” suddenly became a FRIGHTENING REALITY.