Buzz, my 4 year old son who will be 5 next month, has had a hard time with the whole potty thing. This is kind of embarrassing to admit. I’d like to blame his speech delay and behavioral issues, but it’s probably also just as much my fault. He gets it, to a point, as long as he’s completely sans clothes. As soon as I put so much as a pair of underwear on him, he thinks of it like a diaper. He’s better, but I still wouldn’t leave the house with him without protection.
We’ve been working on it diligently this past week though, with much progress made, along with my daughter who has to follow everything her older brother does. So they’ve been running around the house pantsless, like a couple of drunk on milk college kids. At least it saves on laundry.
Yesterday, my parents came over to help watch the kids for a few minutes while I did some things. Of course, my son spent the duration of their visit completely carefree in all his glory. On their way out, I realized my parents left their newspaper behind and went to run it out to them. I told Buzz to stay, I’d be right back, don’t come near the door without clothes on.
Oh, he didn’t come near the door. He opened it. And ran out. Streaking through our yard and in front of the neighbors until I basically tackled him and dragged my exposed and barren child back inside. Hello, neighbors. How’s your day been? I’m sure it’s better than mine. This, oh this is just my son. Please stop staring at his butt.
I’ve never liked potty-training. Who does? But this was one hazard of the job that I never saw coming. Until it streaked like a bolt of naked lightning right in front of me.