Good News and Bad News

Our Toilets

At 4 years old, Cal’s been using the toilet almost exclusively for awhile now.  I say “almost exclusively” because he’s in a Pull-Up – or Underjam – when he sleeps at night and oftentimes when he naps at home.

While I can count on one hand the number of daytime accidents he’s had since we made the transition from diapers to big-boy undies during the day, we have found that Cal does occasionally need some “oversight” when he uses the toilet.  This “oversight” includes reminders for him to wipe, flush and wash his hands, things (particularly that first one) you would think don’t need to be said but, well, do.

Ella isn’t far behind.  She has just recently started showing an interest in the “big-girl potty,” so we dusted off the barely-used potty chairs and put one in the frequently used bathroom downstairs and one in the kids’ bathroom upstairs.  She’ll say either “Ya Ya potty” or “diaper off,” and this is our cue to put her on the potty.  To date, it ends up being a lot of work for nothing – after a minute sitting (playing) on the potty, she’s up and headed for the stool by the sink so she can wash her hands, leaving behind an empty, bone-dry potty.

This past Sunday, Ella had just plopped her buns on the potty when Cal came storming in, declaring he had to “go poopy.”  The toilet was open, so I told him that he could use it while Ella was finishing up on her potty.  Cal didn’t like this idea, claiming “I want some privacy, please.”  My brain flashed forward to a few minutes into the future, and it wasn’t a good scene; so I decided to cut Ella’s round on the “big-girl potty” short and grant Cal his request.

But before Ella and I left, I had this conversation, nose to nose, with Cal:

Me: “Cal, look at me, please.”

Cal looked right into my eyes.

Me: “We’ll give you your privacy, but I want to make sure that you do three things.”

Cal was still looking into my eyes giving me the impression I had his full attention.

Me: “After you’re finished pooping, I want you to wipe your buns, flush the toilet and wash your hands, okay?”

Cal: “Okay.”

Me: “Okay, what did I ask you to do?”

Cal responded with some form of the three requests I had made of him in the correct order. Satisfied, I left with Ella, shutting the door behind us to give Cal his “privacy.”

A few minutes later, Cal emerged from the bathroom fully dressed (shocking – oftentimes, he emerges bare-bunned, undies and pants strewn on the bathroom floor) and declared, “Mommy, I’ve got some good news and I’ve got some bad news.”

Yikes.  This was a new one.  He must have skipped one of the three things I asked him to do.  Please tell me he wiped his buns and skipped flushing or washing his hands.

“Well, give me the bad news first,” I responded, heading toward him outside the bathroom.  Cal retreated quickly into the bathroom.

Despite my request for the bad news, he proceeded to give me the good news first, which was that he wiped and was able to prove it because he hadn’t flushed yet.  I praised him, reminded him to flush and then asked him, “So what’s the bad news?”

He flushed the toilet and said something about the toilet paper and maybe where it came from, but I couldn’t really make out what he meant.  In the end I concluded that he doesn’t know what the phrase, “I’ve got some good news and some bad news” means exactly just yet.  Not sure I’m ready to teach him that.