Peeing 101

At around 5pm on Thursdsay, the Babe decided it was time to lug half the Legos in the universe next door to his friend's house. Since his hands were full, I opened the door for him. Then I walked from the entryway, across the dining room, into Mike's office.

I was there to chat for a moment with Mike but mostly to watch out the front window as the Babe made his way next door, across our front yard.

But he never showed up.

Now, we are talking about 15 feet at the most here. Not a long walk and certainly not long enough for some freak to pick him up. In other words, I wasn't at all in a panic.

I got up, moved back into the dining room and saw the reason for the pokiness of my youngest.

He had taken his shorts down to about the top of his hip bones, pulled his wanker out, and was peeing off the side of the porch, into the bushes.

Facing Hillcrest. Major North/South route between downtown and everything North of here. Exposing himself to every commuter in North Texas.

When I knocked on the window to let him know "I see you!", he smiled sheepishly and waved*. As I continued giving him the evil eye, he didn't break eye contact and continued waving, as he gently put the family jewels back in their protective, Thomas the Tank Engine, holder.

I only have one bit of advice for new fathers everywhere: BEFORE you decide to teach your little boys that the world is their toilet, please consider the ramifications of your actions.

You just never know when your behavior will come back to haunt you.

AHEM. Mike.


*With the OTHER hand.