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8:51 a.m. - 2005-03-24

AND THIS IS WHERE MY WIT'S END


Hey yo.

Just getting this caught up from work since I'm the only one going to be in the office today.

Which is a subtle hint to all those local people who read this anonymously to come on over and rob the place.

The boss has gone to Denver to see his new granddaughter and I've been put in charge of feeding his cats everyday while he and his wife are gone.

Sounds like a crappy little job, huh?

He thought so too.

So in order to offset this extra chore for me, he's letting me drive his new Infiniti while they're gone.

Leather seats ... mahogany interior ... all kinds of crazy crap that you won't find in my '96 Grand Caravan ...

No matter what I've ever wrote about the guy, he's got a heart of gold and I'm so glad to be back here.



Tried to potty train Andrew last night.

Yes ... he's four and still in diapers. Sue me.

We got home about 5:30 and he stripped off his clothes and said "I need a new diaper".

Obviously, kid. Sheesh. Go burn that nasty diaper, ya stink machine.

So I go to fetch him a new diaper and run across a pair of Bob the Builder underwear.

And I become convinced that tonight's the night Andrew pisses in the toilet.

I go back and explain that we are all out of diapers and he'll have to wear "big boy pants" which is our term for underwear around the house.

"Well go to the store and get diapers," he says.

Ummmm ... no.

He refuses to wear big boy pants so I let the kid run around naked for the next two and a half hours.

He has bowel and bladder control. This much I know. He will not go poop at school because ... well ... he just won't. I don't know the reasons, but I'd guess it'd be because everyone would call him "Sammy Shitpants" or something.

So at 8:00 (I had to watch "Survivor" and believe me ... I'm SO GLAD they voted out who they voted out. That person was getting on my f'n nerves), I said "Okay Andrew, let's go in the bathroom."

Andrew follows.

And we have our big father/son talk.

"Look," I said. "EVERYBODY wears big boy pants. All your friends wear them. I wear them. Spongebob wears them. And you have to start wearing them too."

"But I like diapers," he says.

"I know that," I say gently. "But only babies wear diapers. And you're not a baby anymore. Now, we don't have any more diapers so you're just going to have to start going tee-tee on the potty. Now stand there and tee-tee."

He tried.

He had drank three large glasses of orange juice since we got home.

I KNOW he had to go.

Nothing.

But he stood there and did things to his penis that just made me cringe.

I can't go into much detail because it makes me squirm just thinking about it ... but the kid has a future in penis puppetry if he ever chooses to go that route.

So I had him drink two big glasses of water.

I made him put his hands in warm water.

I had him sit on the potty and put his feet in warm water.

I ran the water in the sink, hoping the sound would make him go.

Nothing.

So he got off the potty and started playing with some sea shells on the window sill.

I told him to get back on the potty.

He said "No."

And ... believe me ... this shit is frustrating .... so I kinda yelled at him a bit.

"YOU GET ON THAT TOILET NOWWWWW!!" I yelled.

This shocked him.

He immediately got on the seat and still had a look of defiance on his face as he pointed at me sternly, bottom lip quivering and tears welling up in his eyes.

He wanted to yell back at me but had a pretty good idea that if he did he was going to get his ass spanked.

So he just gave me an evil stare and told me to leave the bathroom.

Fine.

I laid out in the hallway outside the bathroom and just stared at the ceiling.

This went on for an hour until I finally just figured he wasn't going to go.

BUT he agreed to put on some big boy pants.

So he got his big boy pants on, curled up on the couch and we watched "Springtime for Roo".

A few times, he actually jumped off the couch and ran in the bathroom, yanking his big boy pants down as he stood at the potty.

Nothing.

"Roo" ended at 10:30 and I was exhausted.

Susie was still at work because she hadn't put in her full 18-hour workday yet.

Andrew was squirming. He kept his legs crossed tightly and was hunched over as we tried to go tee-tee again.

Nothing.

Finally, at 11 p.m. he just broke down crying while he stood at the potty.

"I can't do it," he cried. "I'm trying, but i can't."

My heart broke.

I know ... I'm a fucking pushover.

I retrieved a diaper.

He was so tired, he barely lit up when he saw it.

I put the diaper on him and put him to bed.

I'm sure he pissed as soon as that damned thing gripped his groin.

Susie's staying home with him today and has strict instructions that Andrew is to wear big boy pants all day.

It's her problem now.

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