Riley is one week away from her third birthday. She still isn't potty trained. I'm certainly not panicking -- I don't know too many functioning adults who are still having a problem with the concept of going potty. We have time. What IS flummoxing me is the fact that she is totally aware of her bodily functions.
As we were walking through Target today, she stopped in the middle of the aisle as I continued walking on. Before I even noticed she was gone, she yelled to my back, "Hey . . . Daddy . . . I'm PEEING!!!!" Everybody in the department (except for ME) were dutifully encouraging. Add to the situation the fact that Riley is almost as tall as a five-year old. So right now, I'm feeling like "Dad-of-the-Year" as my "5-year old daughter" is knowingly and verbally wetting herself in the middle of a big box store.
That's really nothing, though. Her big evacuative vice continues to be "Privacy with Bob".
Bob is our dog. He is a 50 pound Aussie Shepard/Chow mix -- all black. A really good shelter rescued mutt.
The cornerstone of "Privacy with Bob" is the fact that Bob and Riley's bowel movements are cycling like the Menstruation Club at Barnard College during finals week.
Every day, like a toddler-sized Sgt. Schultz, Riley will order Bob into her room while announcing that she needs "Privacy with Bob". Bob will enter the room and faithfully bear witness to the -- DUM DUM DUMMMMMMMM -- "Shitting of the Pants".
Not long after . . . Bob is arching his back on the tree lawn out front and leaving a canine IED behind. On the days when Riley has eaten too much banana, corn, cheese, etc. and finds herself a little bound -- Bob can't go either. I could walk him all afternoon, but he'll just politely wait until Mistress Riley evacuates first.
As I've read, the first step to potty training is a child's awareness of the need to go. Announcing to the paper towel aisle at Target that you were, at that very moment, urinating or . . . say . . . corralling an animal twice your weight into your bedroom so you could gleefully soil yourself in its presence . . . would this be considered "awareness of the need to go"?
Time to get serious.
At least she isn't crapping in the middle of the living room. That would be a foul in most industrial societies.
Remember Bizarro from Superman comics? Remember how he was the exact opposite of Superman?? He came from a Bizarro World where they said, "Goodbye" when they greeted somebody and "Hello" as they parted. It went on in an obvious fashion from there.
It seems that a rare video transmission has been intercepted from the Bizzaro Daddy of the Year Contest. Here's the footage:
I'm astounded that the kid doesn't even flinch. His mind is probably just shutting down as another deposit is made in his mental "Vault of Repressed Memories."