Potty Training Problems for a Tech Savvy Tot

Little Dude was on his A-game last night without even realizing it.

First, it started out as an innocent game of MarioKart on the Wii (he naturally beat me every single time despite my trying efforts). I got pretty fed up but let on that I was just tired and wanted to do something. I decided to show him a Youtube video- that recent viral video of the two adorable five-year-olds sharing their first kiss. I told Little Dude it was so funny he would pee his pants but he assured me, “No way sistah, I’ll only dribble a little.”

Instead of actually paying attention to the beyond cute video, he felt the need to update me every five seconds on his urination capabilities (the video did, in fact, only cause slight dribble).

After watching a few more dribble-inducing web videos, Little Dude decided it was time to show me this new computer game him and my dad have been playing for a few days. So the two of them sat down at the computer and started to battle monsters (or maybe it was fend off thugs..  I can’t remember. I wasn’t really paying attention). Suddenly Dad did the unthinkable- he accidentally closed the window where they had been playing the game. Rather than just brushing it off and re-loading the game, Little Dude took on a very serious tone, looked to my dad and snapped, “Um, next time could you please bookmark that!”

It scares me slightly how much children know about computers and the internet now and how little they know about Sesame Street. Maybe the roles have shifted. Maybe Sesame Street now appeals more to my demographic. I mean, Bert and Ernie are total hipsters with their striped cardigans and unkempt hair.


When swingsets attack (because they’re old and probably violate numerous health and safety codes)

Last night I was eating dinner with Little Dude when he informed me of a terrible situation that arose after his butt got into a fight with a wooden swingset. You all remember your first sliver, right? At the time, it seems like it’s quite possibly the worst thing that will ever happen to you. One tiny piece of broken wood sends your whole world to shit in an instant. But Little Dude’s sliver was in his tush and I have to say, that’s probably not one of the most pleasant places to be slivved (yep, I made up that verb).

Lucky for my parents, they live next door to a retired doctor who makes house calls for these special circumstances (pebbles stuck in your nose, gargantuan face rashes… normal kid stuff). So Dr. J came to the rescue to extract the pesky little piece of wood.

So Little Dude was recapping his horrific experience to me last night and what was the highlight for him? Having the doctor use tweezers on his bum? No. Surviving terrible and piercing pain? No. The best part of it all was the free sticker he got that he appropriately placed…where else? His butt.

I asked him if he’d ever consider getting a tattoo there and I think he’s making a pros and cons list before he makes any final decisions.


Cadbury Cosby

I have to give my stepmom some cred here. I wasn’t actually around for this comment but she passed it along to me and I just had to post it. Let me preempt this by saying that we live in a very white-washed city. Like. Very. White. I had one black friend in high school. I think he was the only black guy in the city. So the other day my stepmom and Little Dude were walking by a group of men when LD noticed a black man among the group. He turned to my stepmom and asked her, in the most serious of tones, “Mommy, is that man made of chocolate?”

Someone’s gotta get this kid a box set of the Cosby Show or something… asap.


Little Boys, Little Filters.

In an interesting twist, Little Dude had his first encounter with an actual “little person” the other day while we were walking downtown. His reaction:

"Ummmm…that man was really little but he was an adult. He was a man but he looked like a kid. Sister, did you see that little adult?"

It could be worse.

My 18-year-old brother used to burp really loudly in public as a child. (Okay, he still does). When he was five, he belched quite impressively while behind a larger woman in line at a store. He then excused himself by saying ” ‘Scuse me I’m a big fat lady.”

Shit.


no shame

Dad and I were watching tv with Little Dude when we heard a peculiar but recognizable squeak. The conversation went as follows:

Dad: “Excuse me. What do you say?”
Little Dude: “Um… that I farted…because I love you?”

Points for creativity.


The Ideal World of Women

Today we were in the car and Little Dude looked at me from under his fourteen baseball caps he was wearing (okay, it was really just two but he thought it was the craziest thing that had ever been done) and said, “Sister… Did you know there are more girls in the world than boys?” I told him I did in fact know this (sadly, only because I read it on stumble last week). He told me he would rather there just be ten girls in the whole world. When I asked who they would be he said “Hmmm.. mommy… you.. annnd.. your friends.”

Hasn’t even reached double digits and he’s already into the older women. You know something’s wrong when even four-year-olds are getting sick of the pickings in their own demographic.


Star Wars; as told by Cheech and Chong

Little Dude is really good at “making lightsabers” aka rolling up papers really tightly and taping them together. I can’t help but think this could lead to bad habits in his adolescence.


Little Dude’s new favourite songs? ‘Good Girls Go Bad’ and ‘California Gurls’. I don’t have the heart to tell him those are soooo summer 2009 and 2010, respectively. So out of touch…
side note: his favourite tv show is Buffy. I’m really starting to notice a theme here. Badass Bitches ftw.

Little Dude’s new favourite songs? ‘Good Girls Go Bad’ and ‘California Gurls’. I don’t have the heart to tell him those are soooo summer 2009 and 2010, respectively. So out of touch…

side note: his favourite tv show is Buffy. I’m really starting to notice a theme here. Badass Bitches ftw.


I briefly considered stealing all of Little Dude’s Easter chocolates and blaming it on his friend. Don’t judge me.

I briefly considered stealing all of Little Dude’s Easter chocolates and blaming it on his friend. Don’t judge me.


Boys>Girls.

"Sister, girls are more scared of thunderstorms than boys because boys are just more….. well, better."