I went on a Girl Date last night. You know, where girls who’ve known each other 20+ years get together after the kids are asleep and drink wine, eat carbs and bitch about their husbands? Yes, it’s called a Girl Date (not to be confused with the kind of girl date you go on in college when you’re going through an experimental phase).
One of my girlfriends (who I’m not going to call out just in case she doesn’t want the resulting mental picture appearing in anyone’s head) told a story I thought exemplified the experience of parenting better than maybe anything else I’ve ever heard.
She was up North recently, vacationing in a cabin with her extended family, husband and two young sons. Her oldest son is four and long-since potty trained, but has a small bladder and still gets up in the middle of the night once to go pee so he doesn’t have an accident.
The first night my friend and her husband discovered their son (being a native Phoenician) was not used to the cold toilet seat and when placed on it in the dark in the middle of the night, began screaming and became inconsolable. Which, of course, woke up everyone else in the cabin. It was a less than ideal situation, is the point (although still the lesser of two evils when compared to wetting the bed).
The next day, my friend and her husband came up with a plan. That night, when it was time to wake the four year old for his bathroom break, they divided and conquered. Her husband went to rouse the sleeping child, while my poised, intelligent, beautiful and educated friend, headed to the bathroom, pulled down her jammy pants, sat down and proceed to warm the cold toilet seat up for her child. WITH HER ASS.
Apparently it worked like a charm. With the toilet seat chill sufficiently removed they were able to drop the kid on the pot and get him back to bed without any of the previous night’s ensuing drama.
After she told this story last night I realized this, this is what parenting looks like. Intelligent, respectable adults reduced to the humiliation of warming toilet seats with our own bodies simply to keep the peace.
Hug your parents, people. It’s hard to even imagine the indignities they’ve suffered in your interest.