Big Boy
by Kara Carlson
The three-year-old
I baby-sit for considers himself a big boy. For
seven months, he has told me, "I'm a big boy.
My baby is a baby." He has a ten-month-old
brother. This month, he realized that real big
boys and real men pee standing up. Only little
boys piss sitting down.
A few
afternoons ago, when I picked him up from kindy,
he whispered to me, "I did standing-up wees."
His face looked like it had been injected with
happy pills. His skin glowed. Five minutes later,
I grasped that his face was just wet with pee
from his roaming penis.
This morning,
the three-year-old screamed, "I'm doing
standing-up wees, I'm doing standing-up wees, I'm
doing standing-up wees," as he sprinted for
the bathroom. His mom was standing next to me.
She looked like he had just confirmed that he had
raped a sheep.
"Don't do
wees standing up," she screamed, chasing him,
"Don't do wees standing up."
I followed her,
naturally.
We entered the
bathroom to see his underwear and pants at his
feet, marinating in piss. Pee eclipsed the
bathroom. It looked like the atomic bomb of piss
had exploded. Everywhere.
The mom
exhaled and said, "You're not big enough to
do standing-up wees."
"My
doodle's tiny," the three-year-old sighed.
"Yes,"
his mom agreed. "Daddy says you have to wait
until your doodle's longer before you do standing-up
wees."
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