Mommy’s favorite time of day has arrived: naptime. I tell Sam to go upstairs and go potty and wait for me. He still needs a diaper at nap, not always, but often enough that we haven’t tried it without one yet (at least not on purpose).
A moment later I head up the stairs and find Sam in his bedroom, laying on his bed, with his thumb in his mouth and his blankie up his nose.
“Did you go potty?”
His response is a noncommital grunt. Mom, can’t you see I’m busy here?
“Sam, did you go to the potty?”
A sigh. Clearly Mommy is not going to leave him alone until he answers. With deliberate carefulness, he removes his thumb from his mouth. “My went before we went to get Ryan!”
Yeah, that was more than an hour ago. Not going to cut it. “Sam, I told you to go potty. Go right now.”
“But my don’t have to– oh, yeah!” Suddenly he has realized that his bladder is full. He jumps up.
“Sammy, Mommy told you to go before. You should be done by now.” This lecture delivered to his back as he scurries toward the bathroom.
I sit on his bed and listen.
Click. The bathroom light turns on.
Click. The bathroom fan turns on.
Click-click. The light and fan both turn off.
Click-click. They both turn on again.
“Samuel John! Stop playing with the switches.” Click-click. “Go to the bathroom right now.”
Click. The light is on.
Creak-Snap. The door is shut.
Buzz. He has turned the fan back on again. And then, finally, right before I took drastic action by standing up,
Tinkle tinkle tinkle.
“Okay, Mommy. My did it! My was fast, like Lightning McQueen, wasn’t I?”
Twitch, twitch, twitch.