Don’t Pee Where You Play

Photo of Bunder as taken by Ruth of

I’m sitting at a picnic table at an outside eatery looking over an enclosed playground.  I take another sip of my Fireman’s 4 and the last bite of my cheeseburger as I check for Bunder.  (Only in Austin, can you enjoy a beer at 11 a.m. at a mom’s meetup and be a part of the norm).

Bunder’s climbing the rock wall to the top of the playscape.  Kiki’s nestled in my lap nibbling on the forgotten french fries in front of her.  Six or seven other moms gather round the table: some sitting, some standing, some bouncing babies in their arms.  All moms and kids seem to be enjoying themselves.

I can’t even remember the conversation – I just remember thinking, “I love moments like this – total bliss – the kids are playing and the moms are connecting.”

Suddenly, another mom is startled, “Oh no!  Someone has his pants down!  I see little boy parts!”

Everyone jumps, “Who is it?  Who is it?”

Who do you think it is?  I’ll give you one guess.

I race across the artificial turf still holding Kiki.  I reach Bunder just as the flow begins.  “What do I do?”  I ask another mom close to me.

“Just let him go and use it as a teachable moment– ‘don’t pee where you play.”

I laugh, “Don’t pee where you play!  Love it!”

I look around for other parents – parents I don’t know who might be disgusted.  Everyone seems to be looking away, not paying attention.

“Look Mommy!  I peed on the woodchips!”  Bunder announces with pride.

“Yes, yes.  I see.  I’m glad you peed,” I whisper as I quickly use my foot to cover his urine spot with additional wood chips.

“Just like kitty litter,” the mom close-by comments.

I laugh nervous and slightly mortified that my child just exposed himself in public and urinated smack-dab in the middle of the playground.

Then, I crouch down to Bunder’s level (still holding Kiki) and say, “I’m so glad you knew you had to go pee.  And what a big boy to pull down your pants and pee all by yourself, but next time we’re out and about you need to let Mommy know before you pee.  We shouldn’t pee where we play.  Other kids might think it’s gross.”

“Mommy, I peed on the woodchips!”

“You sure did!  Next time, let’s remember we don’t pee where we play.”

“Mommy, I peed on the woodchips!”

“Yes, yes!  That’s great!”  I concede.  And in many ways, it is great: 1) he didn’t pee in his pants, 2) he pulled down his pants by himself, and 3) he executed the pee perfectly by sticking out his hips and not dribbling on his pants.  All in all – a potty training success story.

It’s just too bad another kid might walk or play in his urine.  Let’s try not to think about it.

linking up with Just Write


About Mother Ruckus

Living the dream of motherhood and hoping to survive. View all posts by Mother Ruckus

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