All I'm Saying Is Watch Where You Walk

Whether it’s a stiff back when I rise from sitting on the couch for too long or a hangover from one glass of wine, I’m reminded pretty much on a daily basis that I’m aging. Yesterday’s reminder: swinging on the swing set at the park makes me want to yak.

Since the weather has been so amazing, P and I went over to Griffith Park for a little while to burn up some toddler energy and take advantage of the sunshine. Say what you will about Los Angeles, it’s pretty nice having Griffith Park in, basically, my backyard. There is so much to do there; we’ve lived in Silver Lake for two years now and we still haven’t done it all. My main goal this summer is to join the LA Zoo, which I know gets a lot of flack for being low rent, but to the naysayers I say, “Who cares? They have prairie dogs!”

Speaking of wild animals, I have to share this playground story with you. So while I was chasing P around the playground yesterday, rubbing my half-hunched back and calculating when it would be okay to take my next Advil, I spot a three-year old boy in the middle of it all, pulling down his pants. I laughed on the inside thinking I would see his mommy running over to him at full speed in a second or two to stop whatever is about to happen. Not so. Instead, Evan*--I know his name because I realize his mommy is sitting on the ground nearby carrying on a conversation with him throughout this occurrence—rolls his pants, then undergarments, down to his shoes and urinates in the middle of the playground. Mommy continues to sit and watch.

Then the poor guy does the pants-around-his-ankles shuffle over to the slide, yanks them back up and starts complaining, “Mommy, my pants are wet from the pee pee!” I can clearly see that the entire front of his pants and down the legs are soaked. This doesn’t stop him from sliding.

Mommy says, “Well, what do you want to do, Evan?”

Your child is walking around in urine-soaked clothing. What are the options???

So, I think I’m a mostly non-judgmental person when it comes to other parents and their child-rearing styles, because now that I actually am one, I can say that it’s NOT an easy job. Maybe it was some hardcore potty training technique that I haven’t read about, but it was really gnarly. It has also taken my already compulsive use of Purell to another level.

*Obviously don’t want to embarrass the kid even more…