The Fountain of Youth

As I mentioned before, at my house, we're obsessed with the urination habits of our 3-year-old son.

By weekday, he's a well-trained, cotton-undies wearin' kind of guy. I picture him at pre-school, standing next to the other boys at a row of pint-sized urinals, giving and getting high fives for solid bulls eyes.

But at home, he becomes like a spoiled cat. Urine is weapon used to show displeasure, and he's not afraid to use it.

This morning, I told him that he needed to get dressed before he came downstairs. He stripped off his jammies and pull-up happily as I went downstairs to answer the phone.

Over the next several minutes, I frequently called up the stairs, "Are you getting dressed?"

Answers varied from "not yet," to "in just a second." (Hmm, wonder where he learned that one?)

Eventually, I went to check on him, and found him happily playing with a toy shark and one of his favorite CDs submerged in a sink full of water. Still nothing on down below.

I took him to his room and saw the puddle on the floor.

"Is that water?" I asked.

"Nooo."

"Did you pee on your floor?"

A sly grin.

"Why did you DO that?" (loudly)

"Well...I didn't want to get dressed."

Guess he showed me.

I shared this story with friends this evening, and one jokingly suggested a clothespin to stem the tide. Can't say I didn't think about it. But instead I admitted defeat for the moment and wrote a haiku in honor of my worthy opponent:

Water on the floor
A boy's discovered power
The fountain of youth.

Want more haiku? Check out  Haiku and Food to Suit Your Mood. It's simple recipes for the body and witty haiku for the soul.