(If you’re too sophisticated for bathroom humor, don’t bother reading on)
I don’t have to get out the CSPP trading cards to know that a 4-to-1 boy/girl ratio (counting Dad and me) is not even close to the big time in boy numbers (think Preus…). But I’m here, and so are they, and—some days, it just seems like there are so many of them.
Scene: Nature’s call interrupts a family walk around the periphery of the local golf course. Dad directs the boy to the most appropriate venue, given the available options.
Boy, returning to path: Why are there so many bathrooms on the golf course?
Mom, muttering darkly: Some people call them trees.
Dad, gleefully: My son, you’re catching on: the world is our bathroom!*
Boy, musing contentedly as he gets back on his bike: I’ve never peed on the golf course before.
This episode occurred shortly after a family vacation during which the three-year-old, to amuse himself along the drive, composed a song. It was a real epic, celebrating the struggles and triumphs of the trip. The refrain: “And I peeeeeeeed on the plaaaaaants in the woooooods.”
Sorry. I just had to share. It's been like that lately.
*I should perhaps note that Dad is normally what I would consider to be a fairly civilized specimen of the male of the species (or should I say, the male species).