Toby's Wee-wee

Interesting choice of a title, right? Stay with me, there's a story behind it.

I live on a very busy street and it never really bothered me until I had a child. The worst part of our location is that about 30 yards down our road is a stoplight. Often, if the light is red and it's a busy time of day, a long line of cars accumulate in front of our house. This leads to a myriad of problems: people flicking cigarette butts and litter near our driveway, inappropriate and foul music being blasted from tricked-out ridiculous cars, revving loud pipes of motorcycles outside my sleeping son's bedroom window, and a lack of general privacy when we are out front.

Given all of that, we have a pretty nice/spacious/private backyard which contains our gardens, grill, dining area, and ALL OF TOBY'S OUTDOOR TOYS (swing set, playhouse and the like.) Unfortunately, it's most convenient to use our front door, so this involves walking down our driveway to get to the back- and our road/driveway offers an unruly a curious toddler so many distractions.

This morning, much like every morning, we went outside to play before I had to come in to start getting ready for work. Coming inside before Toby considers himself "all done" is usually a battle and I am always prepared for the fight about to take place when I try to walk him up the driveway. It pretty much looks like your worst nightmare.

This morning, however, we stayed out longer than I would have liked, leaving me very little time to get myself together before I left for work (hence why I look like a total disaster most days.)

As we were walking up the driveway, I noticed a long line of cars indicating the stoplight was red. I began to flush at what I must look like with a kicking/wriggling toddler tucked under my arm. So, I used my trusty bargaining chip. "Wee-wee."

For Toby's 2nd birthday Nana and McPepe gifted him a pretty neat firetruck (click here.) Yes, it's amazing but, a little too intricate for Toby to have full access to all the time. So, we have it stored away and every couple of days we take it out for SUPERVISED play. We don't do this with a lot of his toys, but this one is really nice and I think he'll appreciate it when he's older.

Alas, I digress. Toby calls Fire-trucks "Wee-wees" because that's what he does when he mimics the sound of the siren. So, naturally, we refer to the truck as "Wee-wee."

Remain with me, I'm getting to the point.

So, this morning, I'm wrangling my toddler under my arm, with a death grip as he slides under the sweat that has accumulated on my body (because it's one-million-degrees outside.) If you were waiting in one of the vehicles lining my street this is what you would have been witness to:

T: (kicking and screaming) "Nooooo! DOWN! BOO-BOO! PEE-PEE! CA-CA! CAR! DONE! ALL GONE! MILK!"
J: (probably looking like a train-wreck) "I know you want to stay outside and you're mad that we have to go in!"
T: "DOWNNNNNN!"
J: (panting/out of breath) "Hey! You know what? Mama wants to play with your Wee-wee. Do you want to play with your Wee-wee?"
T: "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! AHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
J: (trying to maintain composure as there are multiple vehicles [all with their windows down] observing this scene.) "Yes, that's what we'll do! We haven't played with your Wee-wee for few days! Let's play with your wee-wee!"


It wasn't until I got inside and sat down in a puddle of sweat that I realized what that must have sounded like to the audience in front of my house.

I expect DCYF to be showing up at any moment.