If Zoodle grows up and joins the military, I'll support him. I'll be proud of him. And I'll advise his superiors not to make him a sniper. The guy has no aim whatoever.
How do I know? The proof has all-too-often been written all over my bathroom floor.
Peeing takes, what, 30 seconds? It it really impossible to stay focused for 30 seconds? Apparently so, when you're a four-year-old boy. I've seen how it happens. He starts using the potty, and then turns to me to say something. But when his head turns, his body does too, and he starts decorating the bathroom in a shade I call "Stinky Lemon."
I first realized what a problem this was a few months ago, when my extra-sensitive pregnant nose caught the distinctive odor of stale urine in the bathroom. I cleaned the tile immediately. Then the same day, my bare foot rested in a fresh puddle as I sat down on a toilet in another bathroom.
"Zoodle!" I exclaimed, "You have got to tell me when you make a mess! This is disgusting!" My sweet kid tried to start notifying me after that, but sometimes he still forgets.
Sunday I discovered that awful stink in the bathroom again. Between us, the Engineer and I discovered puddles on the tile on both sides of the potty, plus more on the potty itself. Apparently my kid is making abstract art, with the whole bathroom as his canvas. Yesterday, it was still stinky, despite me using bathroom cleaner and mopping with vinegar water. I finally conquered the stink with Febreze, which left the tile sticky but got rid of the odor.
One of these days, Zoodle's not-so-sharpshooting will gross him out.
When that happens, he'll learn to take careful aim, and the bathrooms he uses will again be safe.
Or at least that's what I'm telling myself!