I’d reached the point where I was simply praying that my middle son was going to find a particularly nice young man to room with in college – the kind who didn’t mind occasionally changing my son’s diapers.

I figured that there were plenty of people in the world who liked to poop into diapers (after watching Hoarders, I now know that there are plenty of people who like to poo into bags AND THEN SAVE IT. Best of all? YOU KNOW IT TOO, NOW.)(You’re welcome).

I mean, there was that crazy astronaut lady who drove across the country to kill her lover’s wife or something WHILE WEARING ADULT DIAPERS. Clearly, there’s a market for that stuff. And clearly, my kid was going to join into that market.

Okay, so maybe that wasn’t a good example. Hoarders + Crazy Astronaut Lady don’t = great sampling size.

Either way, I’d resigned myself to it. It was that, or pull my hair out one by ever-loving one until I had a bald spot the shape of Alaska on my previously hair-covered scalp.

So yesterday, still sick as a motherfucker, I tried again with the potty training. As my son admired the tiny Lego Hogwarts that The Guy on my Couch (who firmly believes he will no longer be known as The Guy On My Couch once he does not, in fact, live on my couch) had lovingly put together, Alex asked to play with it.

As The Guy On My Couch tried to pick up his jaw from the floor (one does not, it appears, play with The Guy On The Couches Lego sets), where it was handily collecting cat hair, I seized the opportunity:

“I will buy you that set AND have Big Ben put it together with you, Alex.”

His eyes opened as wide as saucers as he looked at me. He’s too young to know that statements like that are always followed by a rather unpleasant, “if…”

“…if,” I continued, “you go poop in the potty.”

“No.” There was no room for argument. Guess that wasn’t the currency the kid wanted to dabble in.

“Okay, if you poop in the potty,” he giggled as I continued. The word “poop” is always cause for much ruckus and merry making in my house. “I will take you to Chuck E Cheese TODAY.”

I’d been promising them a trip there as AMELIA had already dropped her deuce in the shitter – but I was going to hold off until whatever bug is currently eating away at my soul decided that my feeble immune system was actually going to kill it. Going to a Chuck E Cheese on a Sunday is worse than waxing the cat or picking out stray pubes one at a time with a pair of tweezers.

His siblings, also in the room with me, chimed in, all pressing the kid to take a shit on the crapper. After a couple minutes, an overwrought Alex protested so loudly that we all stopped and then went about our day (read: tried to stave off a headache, while the banshees chased each other about). My eldest, Ben, continued pressing his brother.

Twenty minutes later, Alex was actually perched atop the porcelain throne and five minutes later, he dropped his first deuce.

The whole house erupted into cheers as the small ones scurried to find pants to wear to Mouse Hell, Where A Parent Is Reminded To Take Her Birth Control, to eat Mouse pizza.

Ears still ringing from the sounds of Mouse Hell, I looked at Dave sheepishly, as we pulled into the toy store after our hour in Mouse Hell (happily, I noted, firearms are not allowed there), and shrugged. I had promised the kid a zillion hundred dollar Lego kit.

“I never thought he’d do it,” I said.

“Me either,” The Daver replied.

And that is how Your Aunt Becky learned to never, ever bribe a kid – no matter how unlikely it is that aforementioned child will actually perform a feat.

Turns out, I am as stupid as I look.

How was YOUR weekend, Pranksters?

(I have to apologize – I’d been planning to start writing my Go Ask Aunt Becky column again – I have plenty of questions, but I was beyond sick on Saturday)

26 thoughts on “Further Proof That I Am, In Fact, As Stupid As I Look

  1. you are awesomesauce. should it turn out to be a one-time affair, try this (some mommy blogger posted it and goddammit, it actually worked for us)–drop $10-$20 on a small package of THE SAME DIAPERS YOUR KID IS IN in the newborn size. have to be exactly the same other than size or it won’t work because the stupid little fuckers are smarter than they look. replace current diapers with newborn diapers. in the morning, go about your business as usual, but when you put the diaper on, act totally shocked because “holy shit, son, you really have grown! look, you’re too big for your diapers! wow! guess you’ll have to wear underwear!” it sounds incredibly dumb but i swear, our kid bought it. no accidents after that, either.

  2. I remember those bribery days. Had we bought stock in John Deere and Thomas the Tank Engine back then, the stash of bribe toys we bought would have funded our retirement account.

  3. A friend of mine had a mother in law who was a total hoarder and used to just take shits in random corners of rooms in her big ass house. Good old Chuck E Cheese, I am too OCD to go there thank the lord

  4. I’ve had to school Chebbar in the NEV.ER.-promise-a-child-ANYTHING-you-don’t-intend-on-following-through thing: he figured it was perfectly acceptable to bribe/coerce a child into doing something by agreeing to their tiny dictator demands because they’d FORGET the promise. BWA HA HAAAAA! Rookie.

  5. Well, the kid was still bought for a far better price than I was. I condescended to use the potty in exchange for a package of pretty panties (the kind w/ the ruffles on the butt). I’m cheap what can I say?

  6. Migraine + Mouse Hell= Totally not worth it. I’ fucking hate Chuck E Cheese. it could be that every time I have ever been there it has been with a pounding migraine and mouse pizza tastes like overpriced frozen Totinos. I’d rather buy 15 Legos kits. But, once you make the promise, you have to back it up. Good on ya!

  7. OMG Becks, you are totally my hero. My daughter is absolutely refusing to do #2 in the potty. She wears underwear all day and then asks for a diaper to poop. Ugh!! I have tried bribing her, but she just says, “um… No, can I have my diaper now???”. I would pay for the zillion dollar Lego set that she is too small for. Just please, for the love of god, poop in the damn potty!!

  8. Wait, wait, wait, wait a second there. Please tell me why it is that people poop in bags, and then store it away. Surely there is a reason for this. I…don’t even know what to say.

    I have two nieces. I know just how far they will go for crap pizza and games that always keep your quarters while spitting out half a ticket. Now, I promise them nothing. Bwahahaha

  9. OMFG I AM SO JEALOUS I COULD DIE!!!! My son is 5 and I cannot find the bribe that will get him to poop in the toilet! (We have to bribe the little beast with cookies to take a leak in the toilet.) We can’t find anything he wants bad enough to sit on the crapper. No toy, no food, no restaurant, no fun place is worth it to him. He waits until bed time and then drop a foul load in his diaper (all while making a face that is so hilarious I can’t help laughing). He says he can’t poop while sitting down. I can’t imagine how he poops while standing, but that’s how he’s done it for years and he won’t even talk about doing it differently.

    I would endure the horror that is Chuck E. Cheese every night for a whole damned 31-day month if the boy would just shit in the toilet like everyone else in his kindergarten class does. But that offer cuts no ice with my boy as he finds the man in the mouse suit disturbing.

    I will now go away and gnaw on my own liver in a fit of envy.

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