I never knew too much about it myself to begin with as I didn’t have a brother growing up so I wasn’t even aware. Later when I heard snippets of various mother’s conversations about the topic I never thought it could be that bad. They must be over dramatising it. Surely. Turns out those mothers were wrong: it was much, much worse than I could have ever have imagined.
Toilet training boys…Number ones. Wee. Wizz.
Teaching the precision art of aim; without having the actual equipment yourself.
Something that I wish I wasn’t so clued up on but unfortunately I am. With my previous career experience and now with a son of my own I am all too familiar with the epic fails that can happen in the toilet training business. And beyond. One of my first days as a wide eyed young child care trainee I was horrified to find a toy car sitting at the bottom of the children’s (clean) toilet. ‘EWWW, I am not getting that out of there‘ I thought to myself. That was early days. Very early days. From that moment on my visual tolerance level for anything disgusting, stinky and vile that a child can do has drastically risen. Because once you have seen someone else’s little darling vomit up fritz and sauce sandwiches, and then had to clean it up, that shit gives you iron guts. Or you can never ever eat fritz again. Or maybe a bit of both.