I woke up the other day and had a two and a half year old daughter that needed potty training.
How did this happen?It seems like yesterday that I was sitting in a bar somewhere trying to forget about, what I thought at that time, were big problems.
You know things like my boss being a jerk, or my girlfriend just not understanding me.
You know, the real important questions we all deal with in life.
But then I woke up the other morning, a single father, potty training a two and a half year old.
Are you freakin' kidding me? The best way I can think of describing this little adventure is to pose a question.
Have you ever had a puppy?Because it sure seems to me that the principle's are the same as getting that puppy to poop outside, rather that on your kitchen floor.
The only difference, that I can see, is that it's by beautiful little girl pissing all over herself instead of a little dog doing it.
The frustrating thing is that with the dog, you can just kick it or rub the dog's nose in the pee if it continues to light up the living room floor.
With your daughter it's much more complicated.
Kicking her is out of the question and you really do want to help.
But it is frustrating.
I mean I understand it to a degree.
And she has done a great job with old number 2.
It's number 1 that's been dicey.
If I had the option of peeing in my pants, I 'd probably take it.
I'm not going to lie about it.
Human beings do what's easiest for the most part.
And what would be easier than just going to town in your pants?And then having some poor sap clean it up for you?If I had this kind of treatment I'd be reluctant to stop as well.
So number one continues to be the issue and you know what?I wouldn't trade this opportunity for anything.
If nothing else, it's fascinating.
As with most things that she says and does, most of the time I'm in awe of the way a two and a half year old can interact and learn in this world.
It truly is a blessing and for those of us who are lucky enough to be a part of this game called parenthood, we should feel blessed.
It doesn't change the fact that when I put her panties on her and invariably fifteen minutes later hear the now familiar, "Daddy, I pee'd", I don't feel like running over and rubbing her nose in it.
Hey, maybe that would get the point across?I'm kidding of course.
Her and I will just continue on our current path and I'm sure it will all work out in the end.
It's like I told a friend recently, "It's not like she'll be eight years old and peeing in her pants.
"She'll have this little mountain conquered in a couple of weeks, I'm sure of it.