When I was 4 years old a girl in my class wee’d on my plimsol when we were lining up ready to go back into the classroom after P.E. She did it again a few days later, this time in the playground while we were playing “The Farmer’s in his den”. Even before these incidents I never really wanted to sit or play with her because she was one of those girls that always smelt a bit of wee or pooh. I assume we all had one in our class (or was I just in a really skeffy class?). The one that smells a bit musty, that actually smelt worse when you came out of swimming lessons, and that sadly, not many people wanted to play with.
Apart from those couple of incidents, I then went on to successfully spend the next 22 years of my life avoiding being wee’d on, in fact, I never really had to avoid the wee, it wasn’t really ever in my vicinity. There was the odd clearing up exception when we first got the cats, but basically I was wee free. Then I had the children.
That’s right, it’s not only pooh which has become a big part of my life, but that other bodily function wee. The rate I’m going I’d expect a post about sick soon too.
Anyway, with babies you get caught out quite often, especially my boys, quick fire as soon as the cool air hit their bits when the nappy was removed. After a few in the eye shots I became an expert at easing nappy down and instantly re-covering their bits. When we got to the potty training stage I have never loved baby wipes more for their quick mop up skills, and toilet roll is ideal for clearing up the little dribbles down the bowl of the loo. And now we’re back with pull ups for the fat one, I’ve had to remind myself to POINT THE WILLY DOWN.
However, for some reason, there was one stage I didn’t really think about. That’s the being in the vicinity of the “wiggle wiggle wiggle” motion.
That’s right. For those of you who don’t have boys (or those of you have normal boys), after going for a wee the shaking motion followed by the narrative “wiggle wiggle wiggle” is performed in order to shake off the remaining drops. However, sometimes, usually when excited, things can get a little exuberant and “shower” like.
In toilets I can cope with it. After all, I tend to I leave him to it, have done for months. He’s so short he just plops it over the bowl and does his thing. To be fair, he rarely makes that much mess.
It’s when we’re out and about and caught out we have an issue.
Take, the other week for example, we were going for our first settling in session at “big school”. We’d parked up round the corner and were waiting for a friend to walk in together. Just before she pulled up he suddenly said “OH OH OH I NEED A WEE MY WILLY IS GETTING BIG QUICK MUMMY”. So I let him go for a wee on my car tyre (oh…doesn’t everybody do that?). I helped him out at this point, he’s quite little and I just have the image of him getting some enthusiastic shakes his jeans and pants just as we’re about to go in and introduce him to his new teacher. However, due to the excitement of visiting big school he started trying to shoot it through the gaps in my alloy wheels (as you do), and so when he came to “wiggle wiggle wiggle” he was aiming a little higher then normal and it went on my cheek. I had no baby wipes as I wasn’t with Fatty, so I had to meet his teacher with the feeling of toddler wee on my cheek. Yes, I DID wipe it off, but only with a bit of tissue, and I could still FEEL it.
There’s also been the other occasion, where we had to pull the car over on a long journey in a random car park. He didn’t want to wee in my car this time (nice of him), he wanted to aim for this plant. So I stood behind him, shielding the cars going by from the view of his little dimply bottom and let him get on with it. However, I didn’t realise this until the wee ran down and between my toes and down the sole of my lovely Oasis sandals. Who thought something so little (child and willy size) could produce SO MUCH wee, it was like a bloody RIVER.
I assume that this is a phase, and that in a few years time, when Fatty has gone through it all, that I wont have to go into places worrying about the little droplets of wee that have landed on my clothes without me knowing don’t smell. That in a few years time, I wont have to carry a packet of baby wipes in my handbag and glove compartment, or hand gel in ALL of my coat pockets.
Or will by that time, will I be so old that I smell like wee and biscuits anyway?
Pass the Gin, and the perfume.