Friday, May 7, 2010
Who Peed In The Garden?
As I entered the kindergarten foyer to collect Boywonder I overheard a worrying conversation between some of the other mothers.
‘… one of the kids went to the toilet in the garden.’
Memories of an enlightening conversation with Boywonder the previous summer came flooding back to me …
Prior to starting kindergarten, Boywonder spent a year attending daycare one day a week. The thrill of learning things from someone other than us guaranteed he was soon bringing home new habits – both good and bad. He was always proud to tell us about his new friends and what he’d learnt from them. It was soon obvious he was more of a follower than a leader.
Then one scorching summer day, Boywonder proved us wrong; he showed me that he was a leader. We were sitting around the wading pool trying to cool down when Boywonder announced his urgent need to pee, but instead of asking for the potty, he asked if he could pee in the garden. I looked at my very pregnant belly and swollen ankles, thought about how often little boys peed behind a tree when I was growing up and said, “Sure.”
Boywonder wasted no time stripping his swimmers off and racing to the edge of the garden. He placed his hands on his out-thrust hips and began to pee. His stance was as comical as it was knowledgeable of how to pee in the garden; it was also obvious this wasn’t the first time he’d done it. Ready to blame his peers for leading my son astray, I asked if any of the other kids at day care peed in the garden.
“Yes,” he replied.
“And who is that?” I asked.
“Me!” replied Boywonder glowing with pride.
… The classroom door opened and my thoughts snapped back to my present predicament. I cast my eyes about the kindergarten foyer, wondering if anyone knew which child had used the garden as a toilet. The other parents and I shuffled along the short hall that led from the foyer to the classroom. By the time I reached the door I was holding my hands behind my back and looking at my feet like a naughty child about to be punished.
I entered the classroom and Boywonder ran up to me, ready to go home with the teacher happily waving goodbye to us. As we walked out the door I saw the teacher attempting to catch someone else’s attention. It was impossible to see which of the twenty parents she was beckoning to, but I was convinced it was the parent of the outdoor urinator. I could empathise with the parent, so I did what any concerned parent would do. I told Boywonder we were in a hurry and ushered him to the car quickly; if I was going to quiz him about which child peed in the garden I had to do it before he became distracted and forgot.