Toilet Training

One of my more trivial fears in raising you, which has turned into complete hilarity, is toilet training. I talked to Suzanne about it, and she said, “James will have to do it.”
Duh.
So that’s what Stacia meant when she described “impediments, anatomical and theoretical.”
Naturally, I informed Your father about his newly assigned duty. Naturally, it seemed he hadn’t fully considered this before. “I’ve never toilet trained before,” he told me honestly.
“That’s because you had girls,” I told him calmly. “But in a few years, you’re going to start.”
My coworker and friend, Judi, mother of two boys said, “Oh toilet training is a huge male bonding moment. There’s nothing for a little boy like the thrill of a father and son peeing together.”
My first reaction was surprised laughter, but I get it.
“Well,” Your father said philosophically when I relayed what she’d said, “I guess someone has to demonstrate.”
“I bet you never imagined you’d be doing something like this in your sixties,” I told him.
“No,” he answered, “I sure didn’t.”
I felt once again relieved for Stacia that she had been spared anatomical impediments when raising her child on her own. I felt relieved that I won’t be raising my boy by myself, at least in the beginning.