We decided to buy Boy a new seat for the toilet. We really needed it for ourselves. You put yourself in far too vulnerable a position when you have an upstairs bathroom, a downstairs bathroom, ONE child potty seat and a toddler named Boy. We are very proud of how well he transitioned from the little portable potties to the little heiny toilet adjuster, but we were running up and down the stairs with it to accommodate the whims of his bowels and bladder. We were exhausted for crying out loud and something had to be done.
Target was our target. Early Saturday. The old get in and get the hell out with at least some money left in thy purse.
We packed light for speed and arrived at our target Target at tenish. Perfect. We chose this particular Target because it was the newest one and we like shiny new things as a family. In retrospect I see the potential downfalls of going to the new one. Being hypnotized by new sights and smells is a sure way to open sesame your wallet.
Beautiful Bride stayed focused while I wandered around aimlessly with Boy. Boy stumbled in to the tiny wee book section of the mammoth and took a real interest immediately. I looked over him proudly in the nearby cd section as he scoured the Dr. Seuses..es. Finally he emerged with his choice of tomb. “Disney’s: What is a Princess?” A journalistic slice of life that asks all your favorite Disney Princess Characters “Is a princess kind, loving and caring _ or is she much, much more?” I don’t go for these sort of books myself but I had to respect the time and effort he put in to deciding on this one.
Just then BB swooshed past our aisle with razor sharp focus. I at once grabbed Boy, Disney Princess book, the Lady Ga Ga cd and myself and ran in her direction.
We caught up with BB in the potty aisle of the toddler section. They had two mini butt seat adapters left. It must have been a busy week in this department. One was a Disney Princess cushy seat that was pink and designed with Tiaras, Carriages and Castles. The cheaper of the two was the standard Target brand plain blue one. The blue one was exactly like the one we already had at home which was perfect because with Boy you don’t want him to prefer one over the other, it would defeat the point of having two. Plus it was cheaper. As I reached for the blue one I heard BB ask Boy which one he wanted.
On the drive home I angrily and quietly lamented how we would inevitably be running this Disney Princess Potty up and down the stairs. Nothing will have changed, no quality of life improvement. The whole trip in vain. Grrr.
Well, at least I could still rock out to Ga Ga in between trips.
As it turns out, Boy is quite happy with the Disney Princess Potty in the downstairs bathroom and the plain blue potty in the upstairs bathroom. BBs’ parenting scores another home run. We are no longer lugging a peewee pooper seat up and down the stairs.
It’s the “Disney’s: What is a Princess?” book that we have to go up and down for because Boy has decided it is his bathroom reading book. Just like Daddy’s New Yorker Magazine. Grrr.
Now I watch him sit on the seat, with his pants at his tiny ankles, rifle through the pictures of these Princesses..es. It somehow reminds me of the Mensroom in my old neighborhood Barber Shop in Brooklyn and how they had Playboy Magazines in there. Oh No! Am I raising a dirty old man?