Yesterday Sam peed on himself and me three times. The first three diaper changes of the day went a little something like this:
I put Sam on his mat and took off his pants, then unsnapped his onesie. Our routine is that every time I pull his onesie up and expose his stomach, I rub his belly and say, “Tummy tummy tummy.” He grins and I take off his diaper. On this particular morning, at this point in the diaper change, Sam had this goofy half-smile on his face. I took the diaper off and — big grin! — he peed on me! I gasped, laughed and said, “Oooh you little monkey! Don’t pee on me!” and finished the diaper change. Fast forward two or three hours. I put Sam on his mat, do our routine, he gets the funny smile on his face, I take off the diaper, and he pees! On himself this time. Fast forward to the next changing of the diaper. Same thing! Funny face, diaper off, PEE!
You’d think that I would have figured it out after the second time. But no, it took me three times (third time really is the charm, I guess) to deduce that Mr. Sam was playing the old My-Wee-Is-Exposed-To-Air-I’m-Going-To-Peeeeee! Game. It was really funny. He is still giving me the half-smile, but I am smarter than he is. I now undo one side of his diaper and hold it in place, wait till the smile goes away, then peek in to see if it’s safe.
Haven’t been peed on since.