Wednesday 23 November 2011

If you Sprinkle When You Tinkle

Rough as a bear's A*$e
My downstairs bathroom is filthy.  It’s in a pretty bad state of chassis.  The four and a half year old is to blame.  His hours in Montessori have been reduced and two things have happened as a direct result.  The first one being I don’t have time on Mondays to sanitise my loos and the second, he has completely forgotten how to be neat and wipe the seat.  Which is only the tiny start of the problem as he has a very big tendency to miss the toilet bowl altogether. 
I went in there the other day a la Britney Spears.  In other words, in my bare feet.  I balked.    But it was too late.  I was well and truly in the danger zone. My face twisted in horror at the cool tiles underneath my feet and what might be breeding on them.  The pee monster in question talks long and fondly of all the “one armed bacterials” that lurk in the toilet bowl.  He has a recent interest in the toilet duck ads on the telly.  As well as anything gross, blood like and even remotely disgusting. They all get his thumbs up.  My loo is no exception although of course he just wouldn’t understand this one. It doesn’t bode well for the future.  It truly doesn’t seeing as there are four men folk in my house.  At least half of them are still in nappies.    
He’s also discovered belching.  Picking his nose is old hat. I doubt he'll ever get over the fascination that is his willy (Mister Husband assures me that he won't.  It is a lifelong, albeit healthy attitude.  That's all fine and dandy, but I don’t want to be distracted from my down time watching our son having down time with his willy!)  So yeah, belching is the new thing.  The first time he let rip was a total accident but the look of pure fascination and wonder on his face, was quickly replaced by delight and a loud "cool!  Mammy, did you hear THAT?" 
Now I hear THAT all the time. And he always follows it with a belly laugh, delighted with himself.  I'm tempted but loathe to destroy his joy by telling him it's not a talent, anyone can do it.
And another thing.  He’s starting school in September and still needs someone to wipe his rear end.  I’m worn out trying to get him to do it himself but he always objects and I end up going in after him. Yesterday I shouted in at him, he said it was taking 16 hours! When I stopped laughing and went into him, the toilet bowl was stuffed with tissue paper and he had managed to get more poo on his t-shirt than on the paper! Basically he's crap at it, no pun intended. Any tips on how to help him?    

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