Thunder Throne Lessons

I was introduced to a new twist on an old term last year, courtesy of my sister-in-law. Since I am master of procrastination, I am writing about this over 18 months later.

But I thought this was such a unique concept, I never completely let it go. It was like a bad potato sitting in the pantry that I could smell but couldn't figure out where the odor was coming from. So I was constantly asking The Babe what he ate and yelling at the dog to "Go outside" because I hadn't THOUGHT to check the stupid potatoes.

The rotting-potato-in-my-head? Potty training.

Now if you are thinking of the torture we parents go through to train our kids to use the porcelain throne*, you are way off base. I'm talking about what happens behind closed doors when a MOMMY has the nerve to close AND lock the bathroom door and sit a spell while reading.

Yes, folks, the new, "IN" potty training is the knowledge Mommy acquires while sitting on the commode.

When I had the time to actually ponder this concept, my brain wondered if we could give it the old college try. So, I acquiesced. With my weekly Bible lesson for the 1st-3rd grade set. Early in the afternoon.

Here's what happened:

a. after I got comfortable, the potty door magically opened**. And, then, I saw a dog; Doug, to be exact. To say he's my fourth child is putting it mildly. He looked up at me through the crack he had created, as if to say, "I missed you."

I slammed the door in his face.

b. the door grew a paw. From the crack underneath it. Then it started to whine.

It was really hard to focus on the Garden of Eden when I was dealing with a whining, hairy door crack.

c. after giving up, Doug left and the whining was replaced by the whimpers of a human child. Who had to go. NOW. I patiently explained that there were three other reasonably available bathrooms in the house. I was told none of them could be used because child was "scared"***.

At frickin' quarter 'til four in the afternoon.

By the time I finished my potty training, my lesson looked like this: "Adam and Eve couldn't ever use the toilet alone because Eve ate the apple, releasing dogs and smallish children to bother them whenever they closed the door to pee."

So, if you were to ask "How's that potty training working for you?", I'd say, "Dog and kid, one. Mommy, zero."

But, I'm betting the results of my experiment would have created a twist on a classic story my class would NEVER hear from another teacher. Or forget.

But, alas, at midnight, I actually got my chance to study the lesson all over again, in the bathroom, by myself. With no interruptions.

Lesson learned: potty training works. But only if you lock the dogs in their cage and tuck the kids into bed BEFORE making any attempt.


*Or, in the case of the Nowell house, urinate all over it. I guess that's what happens when a woman tries to teach a small boy's penis how to do it's potty business.

**Rule #1: you are supposed to LOCK the door. Oops.

***We have this on-going issue of being scared of the dark when EVERY FRIGGIN' LIGHT FROM THE FRONT TO THE BACK OF THE HOUSE IS ON. You'd get whiplash trying to watch the dial on the electric meter run.