We have one rule in our house. (Actually, we have as many as two or three rules.) And the rule is that everyone needs to try to pee before we get in the car to go somewhere.
Everyone follows this rule. Crappy Papa and I included. It just makes sense.
Crappy Baby has been potty trained for many months now. We don’t praise him for peeing anymore. Pooping is no longer high five worthy.
It is just a normal part of his life now.
However, he hates, hates, hates this “pee before you leave” rule.
I explain that we are about to leave to go somewhere fun but he has to try to pee before we leave.
So I try something fun:
Fail. (Hey, it works for brushing teeth, it was worth a shot.)
Crappy Papa steps in and pulls something from logic 101 with him:
You know, the whole “if this then that” classic conditional. If you pee then we can go to fun place.
Doesn’t work. Maybe he needs a visual. We’ll draw a truth table next time.
I try again, reminding him that he doesn’t actually have to pee. He just needs to try. This will take the pressure off.
We’re kinda stuck.
Suddenly, Crappy Boy pipes up:
And they run off to the bathroom.
Crappy Papa and I stand there, flabbergasted.
Crappy Boy helped us.
And this? High five worthy.
This might be my first ever time initiating a sincere high five to another adult. Like, in a non-ironic way. I’m just not the type. You know, the boisterous, high-energy, gym coach type. The type that goes to a bar and gets three rounds of shots for everyone and has a silly nickname. Those people are fun. (Also exhausting and sometimes annoying. But fun.)
For all the high five enthusiasts who are now wondering what on earth I do when I’m super excited and happy, I clap. Yes, I clap my hands. Fast. Which is basically like the introverted version of a high five. I’m just high-fiving myself repeatedly.