Using the bathroom you identify with has become a hot-button issue in today’s America. But when my daughters were potty training, it brought on a world of different meaning. I will do anything for my daughters. There comes a time when this gets pushed to the limit, but I will, I repeat, do anything for them. I’ve even been WAIT FOR IT…peeing sitting down while in the bathroom with them potty training, so they don’t keep trying to stand like Daddy. I can’t believe I just wrote that on a public forum…
Potty training twins is like trying to juggle spinning ceiling fans and loaded diapers. It’s all good until the poop hits the fan, and it hits that fan a lot! That being said, my wife and I were becoming fairly confident in our girls’ abilities. We began venturing out to our community pool every weekend and the girls were getting good at telling Mommy and Daddy when they had to go. While outside the pool, they felt most comfortable with Mommy. But while in the pool, it became an episode of 24, and we’d reenact every Jack Bauer move we could to get to the bathroom before an explosion.
Through the grace of God, while in the pool, our potty emergencies had been my wife’s problem…until they weren’t. My daughter said I gotta go poopy Daddy and I immediately sprung to action. We ran to Daddy’s bathroom and the screaming ensued. You’d have thought I was telling her she could never watch Frozen ever again. She needed Mommy’s bathroom! I forced her into a stall in the men’s room but she kept screaming. Using my bathroom wasn’t a problem anywhere else except at the pool, where she’d only used Mommy’s potty. No one wants to poop or watch someone poop while there’s hysterical crying….wait, no one wants to watch anyone poop ever.
So I had to think fast. As a Dad of twins, you often have to. I took her to Mommy’s bathroom and gave an anyone in here…before I ventured in. Two tweens said yes so we waited and I told my daughter to hold it. She took it literally and put her hand on her heiny. The girls apologized on the way out and giggled, luckily understanding what was going on and that I wasn’t a creeper.
My daughter then became Goldilocks much to my dismay. The first potty was too high; the next one was occupied, so the last one had to be jussssssst right. I made sure to speak loudly so any unsuspecting woman knew there was a man in the bathroom with a little girl potty training. I was really happy it wasn’t another false alarm, and my daughter was so proud of herself when she completed the poopie! We rushed to wash our hands and get out before anyone could give me side-eye.
I must say that my daughters are chick magnets – having one in my arms is usually a recipe for a she’s so cute smile from almost any woman. However, the older, cranky woman walking in on my way out gave me a what the heck are you doing in here stare. As I walked back to the pool, I chest puffed and gave the being an awesome Dad, that’s what strut!