We were at the beach over the weekend, and Elijah told me in his firm but not impolite manner he had to use the facilities. No problem there, but he neglected to mention the matter was a code red – or yellow, to be more precise.
You can guess the rest. No big deal. We cleaned things up and no tears were shed.
Elijah resumed his beach activities, which included talking with two girls frolicking in the water who were likely a year or two older than him. My son has been chatty all week with strangers (the good kind), so I was curious to hear what he was talking about with his new friends.
What followed went more or less like this:
“I had to go potty, but we didn’t make it to the bathroom on time so pee came out of my penis …”
I couldn’t bear to hear the rest. Maybe his new friends admired his candor, his ability to share his flaws without fear of losing face. Or, they mentally shouted, “ewww” and wanted to get away as quickly as possible.
Their shared playtime didn’t last long, so I’m guessing the latter thinking won out.
When Elijah starts dating the conversations won’t involve bathroom accidents, but they will be fraught with topics that require a nimble touch. I remember sitting around the dinner table years ago, listening to my parents give my older brother dating advice. The dialogue was fascinating, although most of it went over my head since my brother is nearly three years my senior, and back then I cared more about “Star Trek” than, gasp, girls.
My brother probably didn’t give the advice much thought – he often ended up doing exactly the opposite of what my parents suggested in some instances. I’m sure he still picked up plenty of tips along the way, and I’m looking forward to doing all I can to prep Elijah for the tangled emotional minefield that is dating life.
For now, the best I can do is tell him to keep the pee pee patter to himself.