The Adventures of Jack

Well it happened.

He did it.

I knew it would come.

I didn't know when, now I do. Write it down: July 22, 2009.

Boys.

If they are, in fact, made out of sticks and snails and puppy dog tails than who would be surprised when they end up peeing off of the back porch.

They are boys.

They are rugged.

There are so many things that they could live without: hairdryers, jewelry, shirts, pedicures, and well, toilets.

It is so very convenient that little boys can "go" just about anywhere. When traveling, I never take Jack into gross gas station toilets. He says the word and we just pull over. He stands on the edge of the van (away from traffic) and lets it go. Done. I'm back in the driver's seat before I know it, continuing on. Emily says that any time they stop, the minimum time it takes is 20 minutes. Not us. We can be back on the road in 4, unless he's drunk alot.

So really, it should be no surprise when I look up and see my son standing in the doorway taking a leak. I've encouraged it. He is a product of my laziness. Sometimes, when we are at the park (not one any of you go to) and no one is around, he needs to go. I take him away from all the playthings, and he goes.

Easy cheesy.

Maybe I should talk to him. I should give him parameters to peeing outside, a list of do's and don'ts.

I'm just not sure he can take it all in. I mean, he's a guy. He doesn't like details. Keep it simple. Whens and wheres will just confuse him.

But, I probably should explain that it is better to stand on the EDGE of the porch and pee into the grass vs. standing in the doorway and peeing ON the porch.