What really bothers me about the whole thing is that I wasn’t as disgusted as I should have been. I GOT PEE IN MY MOUTH! I should have keeled over, dry-heaved, thrown-up a little, ran around the house screaming GROOOSSSSS!!!! Instead, I stumbled backward, laughed lightly, and turned to wash my mouth out in the sink.
Jack is just starting to demonstrate signs of potty-training readiness. He is fascinated by his parents’ bathroom activity and often announces that “Dada and Mama go pee-pee, poo-poo on the bobby.” I’m just waiting for him to tell the checkout lady at the grocery store this information.
Last night I put him in the bathtub. He stood frozen with buckled knees, clutching his crotch in a classic “I gotta go!” pose. I whipped him out of the tub and sat him on the potty. The problem some kids face in training their bodies to go on command is not always the holding, but the releasing. I transferred him from the tub to the potty (on his command) five times before he was finally able to release the pee.
I peered into the toilet bowl to see if anything was happening.
I said, “Move your hands honey, or you’ll get pee on yourself.”
Oh, he moved his hands alright, but not before filling a chubby cupped hand with about an ounce of pee. He brought his hands up quickly to clap and yell “I did it!” In the meantime nearly all the cupped pee made a quick deposit into my smiling mouth.
My first thought remained focused on his achievement, “He did it!”
Then, “Wait. What the fuck just happened?”
Then, “Well, at least it’s Jack’s pee”
Then, “Hmm, salty”
Then, “I HAVE PEE IN MY MOUTH!!!”
I didn’t want to scare my toddler who was still celebrating his first step toward ‘big boy pants’ so I didn’t even make a face. I, casually, side-stepped to the sink to spit and rinse my mouth. I continued to nod and clap with him as if nothing incredibly gross had happened.
Jack’s next mission is to pee into the potty with out giving mama a drink of it first. I’m sure he’ll do fine as long as I stand back.