So on Wednesday I ended up taking William to work with me. About five minutes after we arrived at my office, he announced that he needed to pee. I took him to the bathroom, but what followed was a colossal failure by everyone involved.
With no footstool available, I was going to lift him up to pee, but William started the proceedings before I was in position. Pee went everywhere except into the toilet - on the floor, on his pants, on me. It was a disaster, especially considering that I hadn’t brought a change of clothes for him.
We have been fortunate for the last three and a half years. In the rare occasions that someone has let slip a curse word in front of William, he has never retained it or even repeated it. Even after the infamous Grand Theft Auto incident, he never repeated any foul language that he’d heard.
As I attempted to clean up the pee, I couldn’t help myself, and let out an exasperated “dammit!” William immediately responded with, “Dammit, Daddy!” It would’ve been funny if I hadn’t been trying to figure out how to fix the fact that my son was soaked in urine from the waist down.
In the end, I left him with my department manager long enough to rush over to the store next door to my office and buy him some new pants and underwear. Everything worked out OK in the end, although I didn’t really get much work done on Wednesday.
Thankfully, he hasn’t repeated the “dammit” since the incident.
