This past weekend was a weekend like any other for the most part. We went to Flushing Meadows Park, and hung out by the Unisphere, the boy rode the carousel, and fun was had by all. (The previous sentence is actually irrelevant to the post. Sorry about that.) Anyway, like I promised last week I was on a mission to teach my boy how to not be so sloppy with his man-snake when using the bathroom. And that’s what I did in addition to going to the park (ok not really).

For the sake of my kid I waited until my wife went off into the world to run some obscure errand before the lesson began. Of course I didn’t have to wait until long after mommy left before the boy had to pee – kids tend to pee about 47 times a day. I followed him into the bathroom, not stating my purpose, only observing. Once he, um, started I suggested that he point it down a little and aim for the water. He pointed down a bit too much. In about two seconds his underwear were soaked and he was frustrated. I told him it was all good and urged him to change his drawers before his mother got home.

Moments later he proudly popped back up in a clean version of the exact same faded blue boxer briefs. He smiled, I smiled, both of us aware of the fact that mommy would not have understood the man moment we were sharing. After that we farted and scratched together all while having a belching contest. I love raising a boy.