The Garden Hose Bidet

One of my jobs as mom is to make fun situations out of the inevitable embarrassing accidents that my children will experience. My creativity was forced to be put to work a few days ago when Dawson had a little faux pas.

Ironing curtains, I heard the back door open and I figured Dawson had decided to come in and take a break from riding his tricycle. Madalynn came in a few minutes later and said in a sympathetic voice, "Mom, I think Dawson may have pooped outside. He's getting some paper towels. I think he's trying to clean it up."

Preventing any further "damage" is my first priority when any kind of accident happens, so my feet quickly took me to the other room as my mind prepared to stay calm, give grace and understanding while getting to the bottom of the story at the same time. Dawson has been potty-trained for a solid month now, and it wasn't like him to have an accident. Why didn't he make it to the toilet, I wondered.

Background into my husbands potty training experience gave me some wisdom and insight as my mind went back to the stories Cheryl has told me.

Cheryl explained how, when Travis was around five, his underwear somehow kept disappearing. She would notice fewer pairs going through the laundry but kept buying some more, assuming they were probably getting lost. Travis, in the meantime, was craftily burying his underpants. Why? He was too involved in playing outside to want to stop and visit the toilet when he had to do his doo. He would poop his pants because he was so busy playing, and then bury them to hide the evidence and then simply get a fresh pair to replace the buried ones. Cheryl finally investigated and discovered his secret underwear burying scheme when one too many pair of underwear kept disappearing!

Cheryl pondered the real reason for Travis burying his underwear. Travis was, after all, totally capable of using the toiled and did except for when he was outside. She realized playing was more of a priority than getting to the toilet. Great creativity is needed to persuade a busy five-year old boy to stop his outside playing long enough to use the potty. Cheryl said, "Travis, what is something you REALLY want?" Travis said he wanted a pair of cowboy chaps. Cheryl said, "Okay, Travis, I will make you some of your own cowboy pants, but ONLY if you stop pooping in your pants and burying them." Chaps were a powerful bargaining tool, apparently, because he stopped pooping his pants!

I arrived on scene and Dawson was standing at with the cabinet under the sink open with poop down his leg and a wad of paper towels in his hand. He was trying to figure out how he was going to, as quietly as possible, tear the paper towels off the roll. I startled him when I walked in and he looked up at me with an expression that said, "I know I did a bad thing, but the terrible smell and feeling from poop all over my leg are consequence enough." I calmly asked Dawson to come outside and show me where his underwear were. Dawson felt ashamed and didn't want to tell me, so Justis, also sympathetic to his brother's hurt pride, came out and helped me take care of it.

Dawson watched as I picked up his soiled underwear and took them in to the washing machine and came back out.

"All right, Dawson," I said with a grin. "Come over and stand on the grass. I'm going to help you get cleaned up!"

An inquisitive smile crept onto Dawson's face. His curiosity was piqued.

I picked up the hose and turned it on, and said, "I'm going to spray you off, okay?"

With a giggle and an "okay" from Dawson, I cleaned him off with the spray of the hose. Keep in mind, here in Louisiana the water that comes out of the hose is MUCH warmer than hose water in Kansas!

My attention was needed at the site of the accident after I got Dawson cleaned up. There it was. A big pile of poop was right beside Dawson's little tricycle. I cleaned it up and realized the good time Dawson was having on that tricycle preoccupied his urge to go sit on the nearest potty. I smiled. Like father, like son, I guess! :)