Quite a Handful

This is a daddytale by proxy. It happened to J and she told it to me, and now I’m telling it to you. Yes, I realize it’s technically not a “daddy” tale, but it’s funny enough that I hope you’ll forgive the break in format…

C is what I think of as “almost” potty trained. He knows how to use the toilet and when to use the toilet. However, he doesn’t always make it in time. Sometimes he’s so caught up in whatever he’s doing that he just has the briefest moment of “uh-oh!” before it’s too late.

A couple days ago, J and the kids were at the park. Suddenly, C looked up at her with his panicked-potty expression “uh-oh!”

Fortunately, she was with some friends. She left N under their supervision, picked up C, and ran for the public restrooms.

Carrying a child to the toilet is not as straightforward as you might think. You can’t use the football carry, because the pressure on his belly moves things along. Similarly, you don’t want him bouncing on your hip. I often carry the child at arm’s length, holding him under the arm pits, but J’s not quite that strong.

Her technique is to have him sit in her arms. He faces forward leaning against her, sitting in her hands. This way she can cushion the bouncing without squeezing him, and she can use both arms to support him.

Sure enough, about halfway to the restroom he made a little “relaxing” noise.

She slowed down, looking at him, “Did you go in your pants?”

“No, Momma, I went in your hand.”

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