“Were you born in a barnyard?... No, but
I have one in my front yard!”
A. Villarreal
I have one in my front yard!”
A. Villarreal
Rule #5: When you live on a farm it’s OK to pee outside… even in below freezing weather, but be careful NOT to pee on the electric fence.
Things were quiet – much too quiet – a sure sign that someone was certainly up to no good. The silence was broken by the sound of muffled amusement which quickly escalated to waves of uncontrollable laughter.
I looked out the window to see the two little boys (three and five years old) standing on the edge of the trampoline trying to pee on the dog.
Aghast, (remnant of my suburban upbringing) I yelled to Mr. V. “Dear, the little boys are trying to pee on Bella’s head!”
Without missing a beat or even cracking a smile he replied, “Did they get her?”
“What!?” I yelled (remembering my grandma once asking us kids if we were born in a barnyard -- reference to the mess we were making).
“Come on Babe,” he replied. “When you live on a farm it’s OK to pee outside.”
I remembered back to when I was first introduced to Farm Etiquette Rule #5. You see, my then three-year-old (our first boy) was having difficulty adjusting to the fact that his mother needed him potty trained.
We had tried the cute Spiderman undies, bribed him with a variety of tempting toys, and even played the “Aim For The Cheerio Game”, all to no avail. I was at a loss for what to try next when Mr. V came running into the house.
“Dear,” he excitedly exclaimed, “our boy is potty trained!”
“When did that happen?” I asked with certain disbelief.
“Today,” he said with a glowing smile. “I taught him how to pee outside!”
“Oh shoot me,” I thought, but then reneged as I recalled Farm Etiquette Rules #3 and #4:
Things were quiet – much too quiet – a sure sign that someone was certainly up to no good. The silence was broken by the sound of muffled amusement which quickly escalated to waves of uncontrollable laughter.
I looked out the window to see the two little boys (three and five years old) standing on the edge of the trampoline trying to pee on the dog.
Aghast, (remnant of my suburban upbringing) I yelled to Mr. V. “Dear, the little boys are trying to pee on Bella’s head!”
Without missing a beat or even cracking a smile he replied, “Did they get her?”
“What!?” I yelled (remembering my grandma once asking us kids if we were born in a barnyard -- reference to the mess we were making).
“Come on Babe,” he replied. “When you live on a farm it’s OK to pee outside.”
I remembered back to when I was first introduced to Farm Etiquette Rule #5. You see, my then three-year-old (our first boy) was having difficulty adjusting to the fact that his mother needed him potty trained.
We had tried the cute Spiderman undies, bribed him with a variety of tempting toys, and even played the “Aim For The Cheerio Game”, all to no avail. I was at a loss for what to try next when Mr. V came running into the house.
“Dear,” he excitedly exclaimed, “our boy is potty trained!”
“When did that happen?” I asked with certain disbelief.
“Today,” he said with a glowing smile. “I taught him how to pee outside!”
“Oh shoot me,” I thought, but then reneged as I recalled Farm Etiquette Rules #3 and #4:
Rule #3: It is required that your child get his first BB Gun before entering Kindergarten.
Rule #4: Target shooting is a perfectly appropriate family bonding activity.
So, at that point I realized it was useless to argue and since then each one of my boys have moved on to the world of underwear with the same training technique.
Rule #4: Target shooting is a perfectly appropriate family bonding activity.
So, at that point I realized it was useless to argue and since then each one of my boys have moved on to the world of underwear with the same training technique.
I am proud to say that to the best of my knowledge I have never yet had a one of them pee on the Kindergarten Playground.
There was, however, that one incident last summer when we were visiting a well known religious landmark (a.k.a. The Seattle LDS Temple).
As I was admiring the beautiful landscape with its array of magnificent fountains and well tended gardens, my moment of serenity was rudely interrupted by the screams of, “Mom! He is peeing in the fountain!”
I quickly turned away pretending not to know the child (and thinking I should teach my girls this same technique) when the desperate cry was heard again (this time even louder and with specific use of my name).
I looked just in time to see Mr. V whip out his camera and forever capture the moment in time. This photo, by the way, was included in a publication of some of Mr. V's award winning photography.
And so the other day I heard myself asking the ten-year-old, “Were you born in a barnyard?” to which he quickly replied, “No, but I have one in my front yard.”
He is definitely his father’s child.
I looked just in time to see Mr. V whip out his camera and forever capture the moment in time. This photo, by the way, was included in a publication of some of Mr. V's award winning photography.
And so the other day I heard myself asking the ten-year-old, “Were you born in a barnyard?” to which he quickly replied, “No, but I have one in my front yard.”
He is definitely his father’s child.
No comments:
Post a Comment