An Ode to Moms of Boys Part II

I have always been well aware of the differences of the sexes. Men and women are just different than one another. And when I had the little man, I was sure that I would encounter these differences once again as the mother of a little boy. As a mommy, I knew full well that there would be times when daddy's expertise would surpass mine ... even though mommy's are supposed to know everything.

And there would be times when mommy wouldn't understand simply because I am a girl.

My first such experience was chronicled in An Ode to Moms of Boys.

Which leads me to this post.

It all started innocently about a month ago. The husband had planned a trip golfing with his father and one of his brothers. They wanted to take the little man along. It was to be a boys day.

Somewhere amid the afternoon of golfing, little man informed daddy that he needed to go to the bathroom. As luck would have it, there was no restroom in site. And there was no telling how long it would take to get back to the clubhouse to use those facilities.

Not that any of that would have mattered. They were boys. They were equipped for times such as this.

And on that spring afternoon little man experienced his first rite of passage as a little boy.

Peeing on a tree.

I knew full well that this day would come. And now that the little man is potty trained, I knew this day would probably come soon. And given the circumstances, I can't blame the husband for this one. It was either the tree or suffer the consequences of a 3-year-old who couldn't possibly have held it long enough to make the long trek back to the clubhouse.

However, the mind of a 3-year-old is very simple and they don't necessarily understand why in some circumstances it's OK to do something, while in others it's not.

Last weekend we ventured to Wichita to visit my husband's family. It happened to be the weekend of Riverfest, a fun event downtown by the river full of carnival rides, funnel cakes, arts and crafts and music.

It was a nice night when we ventured down to the Riverfest. There was a fabulous kids section with rides tailored to children of all ages as well as an entire area of blow-up bouncy castles, which are little man's favorite.

While in line for one such bouncy castle, little man was squirmy and impatient. I'm sure it seemed as if we were waiting forever to him. But he was determined to get his 5 minutes to play in the large red, blue and yellow bounce house. And so we waited.

As I waited with the little man, reminding him that we needed to wait our turn, something caught my eye.

It was the little man.

And his cookie monster underwear.

My mommy reflexes jumped into action.

"No! What are you doing buddy?" I asked little man as I stopped him from pulling down his pants even farther.

"I gotta go pee-pee," little man explained. "I wanna pee in the grass."

I was mortified. I could hear the giggles of the people in line just behind us.

"You cannot pee in the grass," I said. "You need to go to the bathroom."

By now the husband had also jumped into the commotion.

{Probably because he knew full well that mommy's wrath was coming his way. The little man certainly did not learn the art of peeing in the grass from mommy.}

"No, you can't go pee-pee in the grass here," my husband said in between laughs."Let's go find a bathroom."

He swooped up the little man and before I knew it, they were off to find a bathroom.

I could still hear the giggles of the people in line near us. One of those giggles may have even been my mother-in-law, who raised three boys herself.

And one of those giggles may have even been mine.

But there I stood, ever the dutiful mommy, keeping our place in line for the bounce house. Relieved that little man had not ... relieved himself ... yet ever more aware of the differences between boys and girls.