Nope, I Just Dancing

Into the van, boys. We are going to Target!

Little, do you need to pee first?

No, I just dancing to music. It’s in my head.

Really? 

Yeah, I dance. See?

Never trust a preschooler with a reputation for peeing his pants. Even if he did use the facilities only ten minutes earlier. Against my better judgement, I didn’t force the issue and we took off to Mom Mecca: Target.

As we pulled into the parking lot, Little says in a tiny voice, “I wet.”

So many feelings! I was irritated that he peed his pants when he is capable of staying dry. I was peeved at myself for being irritated because I don’t tend to get upset with toilet training mishaps. I felt bad for his older brother who had brought his Lightning McQueen, velcro-closure wallet with him to buy a toy.

After checking the diaper bag and discovering no spare clothes (now I had to add Bearded Husband to my list of irritants) I had a plan of action.

Well, we’re going to buy you a pair shorts and you’ll wear those. AND YOU WILL LIKE THEM.

Now it was time for the big brother to jump into older and wiser sibling mode:

Little, you are going to have to wear whatever we buy, that’s what happens when you pee your pants.

Now, Little, when you pee your pants, Mommy isn’t angry, but you won’t be getting a toy.

Little, will get a toy because she didn’t have to spend money buying me new shorts because my shorts are dry. I never pee myself.

You know, you peed your pants.photo-51

Our shopping trip was mostly uneventful after that. The boys got into a slight altercation in the sock aisle, but it was nothing a threat issued through clenched teeth couldn’t diffuse.

We chatted and giggled while we finished up our shopping. As we wheeled towards the till, my youngest piped up:

Mommy? I get a toy?

No, Little, I spent that money on new shorts since you peed your pants.

I so sorry. Please? You buy me a toy? I not always pee my pants anymore.

It might take me a while and several seasons of preschool life, but eventually I learn: Never trust an almost 3-year-old. Especially one who has perfected using his cuteness for evil.

Don’t feel bad for him, though. He did get to ride home in a “big boy booster” instead of his car seat. Oh, that’s because – wait, did I mention this already? He peed his pants.

———

Unfortunate shopping experience? Share. Bodily functions involved? Even better.

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About Jan Moyer

Embracing my inner child since 2005. View all posts by Jan Moyer

7 responses to “Nope, I Just Dancing

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