[I am celebrating four years of blogging this week, so I thought it a good time to re-publish a few posts from my earliest days of blogging. This one is from my blog's first month.]
We had another toilet-related drama this morning. Una was in my bathroom, and she usually takes a bit of time, as she has IBS and is prone to tummy trouble. Adrian, who is three, came to me and said, "I need to go pee in the potty." This was good news, as he is rarely so bored as to bother to tell me he has the urge to go. We were there at the bathroom door when Sebastian said he needed to use the toilet as well. Okay, two toilets; three kids who need to use them.
God grants wisdom to mothers who ask for it.
I eye Sebastian. "Can you pee in the back yard?" I ask hurriedly.
He shakes his head. "No, I don't have to pee."
I look down at Adrian. "Pee or poop?"
"I have to go pee I said!" He looks anxious.
"Alright, you take the bathroom, Sebastian. Adrian, come with me." I grab his hand and lead him through the kitchen and laundry room to the back steps, then I jerk down his shorts and pull-up diaper. "Now, stand close to the edge and pee down there."
Just a moment before he begins to tinkle, I see Lizzy, one of our barn cats, a shy one who never approaches the kids but likes me quite well, coming towards us just below the step where Adrian stands. And the inevitable happens.
He pees on the cat.
How is the less-than-one-toilet-per-capita problem dealt with in households full of girls, I'd like to know?