Bathroom Adventures, part 4

Meatball is four and a half years old now, and as such, is very much under construction.

One thing he's discovered is the concept of lying. He lies to get what he wants, he lies to get out of trouble, and he lies to avoid doing things. Fortunately, he sucks badly at it.

Ever watch a little kid lie? It's adorable.

They start fidgeting and saying "ummmm" a lot while they make up stuff. With Meatball, it's especially adorable because he has a ridiculously active imagination. If you don't stop him, his lies will quickly depart from the realistic.

Me: "Didn't I tell you to put your shoes on ten minutes ago?"
Him: "I didn't put on my shoes because they are made of lava and they burn my feet."

Anyway, as cute as it is, I have to at least act angry about it so that he learns to stop. This especially involves checking up on him a lot and making sure that he actually did what he claims he's done. Nowhere is this worse than when it comes to wiping his butt. Meatball has decided that he is not interested in wiping. Kids like to exert their independence at times and do things "their way" and this is the battle he has chosen to wage.

Lucky me.

We've developed a routine lately. Whenever he goes potty, it's my job to look in the toilet afterwards and visually verify that there is some used toilet paper in there. Who knew that being a parent was so glamorous?

So a couple of nights ago he was on the potty, dropping the kids off at the pool, and I heard a flush. "There goes the evidence," I thought to myself. Figuring that he flushed as part of a plan to act like he wiped, I was prepared to confront him.

I got to the entrance of the bathroom.

Me: "Did you wipe?"
Him: "Yes"
Me: "Are you sure? Don't lie to me, I don't want to have to get mad at you."
Him: "I wiped my tush Daddy, I'm not lying."
Me: "Ok, you better be telling me the truth. Don't forget to wash your hands."

I'd said my piece, so I figured the conversation was over. Satisfied, I went over to my bad and sat down. Little did I know what was about to happen.

Meatball followed me into the bedroom after washing his hands. "Daddy, I really did wipe my tush this time. I promise." I tell him that I believe him.

Then the unthinkable happened.

In a single deft movement, he proceeded to turn around, drop his pants and bend over. When I say bend over, I mean he could have kissed his own ankles. Reaching back and spreading his cheeks for me, just to avoid any confusion, he repeats "See Daddy, my tush is clean. See Daddy, look!"

I can't remember that last time I wanted to run away that bad. Of course, I couldn't, so I adopted a tone that hopefully suggested that this sort of thing happens all the time. "Yep, good job son. You did a great job. Now pull your pants back up. Please"

In a weird sort of way, I feel like he won a battle that he might not have even realized he fought. His victory? I haven't bugged him again about wiping since that moment.