Willy Nilly

I have never had a dog, but I do have the next best thing -- a newly potty-trained three-year-old boy. His primary interest, other than balloons, play-doh, and stomp rockets, is exercising his right to pee wherever he chooses. At first, I wasn't the biggest fan of peeing in places other than bathrooms, probably because, as a woman, I really had not had much practice with this custom. I mean, in times of desperation, I'm not above squatting, but it certainly is not something that gives me excitement or pride. However, as a man, my husband Robert explained to me that peeing without the confines of a toilet is actually not uncomfortable at all. Quite the opposite, it's liberating, convenient, and even a little bit fun.

So I've been making an effort to open my mind to the possibilities for peeing. Max and I often have question and answer sessions about the boundaries and rules for out-of-the-bathroom pee adventures. They go like this:

"Can I pee on that tree?" asks Max.

"Are we in a private place?" I ask him. We look around and see no signs of our nosy neighbors or friendly mailman.

"Yes," says Max.

"Okay, then. You can pee on that tree."

Max requests my help to strip down. He cannot pee unless his shorts and underwear are completely off. And his socks and shoes. Then he does his business with a mischievously gleeful grin on his face.




He also rationalizes his outdoor eliminating by telling us that he's watering the tree. Maeve stands close by and watches with fascination. She points at him, says, "yay!" and claps when he's finished. Then I have to help him get dressed again. But at least I don't have to change his diaper anymore, right?

Sometimes things don't go exactly as planned.

"Can I pee on that leaf?" Max asks.

We both ensure privacy. "Yes," I say. "Go ahead."




It is not clear if his misfire is intentional or accidental, but either way, now I have to redress all three of us since we got peed on. The poor cat is left to groom himself. The leaf didn't even get wet.

I try not to get angry in these situations. I'm proud of Max for achieving this developmental milestone and don't want him to feel embarrassed about a completely natural body function.

Sometimes, however, things get a little more off course.

The other day, while I was doing the dishes, I noticed this scene unfolding out of the corner of my eye:




Max had skipped the question and answer session, and unanimously decided that it would be a good idea to pee in the floor vent. At that moment, I did not care about preserving his integrity. I screamed at him, "What are you doing????" He seemed miffed that the hole in a toilet was appropriate for peeing, but a hole in our living room was not.

Luckily, he hasn't brought up any desire to poop anywhere other than in the potty.



Max is a bit disturbed by the sound of his poop hitting the water. He gasps in surprise. And he flushes the toilet eagerly, as if he's afraid the plopping noises will continue.

Thankfully, Max does not poop with the same reckless abandon as he pees. If he did, I might seriously consider trading him in for a nice housebroken dog. For now, though, I'll keep the three-year-old and maybe buy a pair of rubber boots in case of rain.


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