Sunday 07 December 2003

Charles the wet

Over the last week or so Charles has been becoming more concerned about having a wet diaper. It seems to have started while I was gone and he had some bad diarehea. Mom and I used to have to keep half an eye on his diaper state to make sure he didn’t overflow. Now, as soon as he’s soiled his diaper at all, he wants a new one.

Charles hit a new level this evening. He came over to me and announced “wet!”. I checked his diaper and he was just a little wet. Because we’re working on potty training I’ve been less responsive to diaper changes, explaining to Charles that he should use the potty, to which he just smiles and giggles because Dad has made a funny.

Instead of his normal response, Charles tried a different claim to see if that would work - “poop!”. Well, Charles’ waste products have a certain, distinctive aromatic quality so I didn’t even have to look to know that he wasn’t packing so I again denied his request for a fresh diaper.

Charles wasn’t stymied for more than a second before pointing at his butt and announcing “stinky!”. Again he was denied.

But Charles was demonstrating that boy quality that eventually helps them to mate and produce more little boys, not taking rejection very seriously. He immediately cycled back to “wet!” and we went through the cycle again, each time through Charles would emit a slightly louder laugh before making his announcement and hitting a purer and higher tone with each utterance, until if one hadn’t been around at the start would have sounded just like pure shrieking.

Despite how fun this was for Charles, Dad is at heart a terrible meany (just ask Corwin). I decided to use a Kung-Fu-Tickle attack on him, which he’s getter much better at defending against. This distracted him to the extent that it wasn’t until about a ½ hour later that he once again brought up the diaper issue. By that time it was way past his bed time (instead of somewhat past his bed time) and he’d actually made enough wet to justify a replacement. The moral of the story is all good things come to he who waits.

Posted by Dad about Charles at 21:23 | Ping URL
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