We walk into the house after an obscenely long commute home from therapy. J-man carries his chicken nugget bag in like it is gold. He is ready to eat, now! I run to the kitchen to fetch a plate and ketchup as J-man sashays up to the table with his Golden Arches prize. I do this strange, exotic, weaving dance as I quickly deposit plate and ketchup on the table and hoist his rear into his chair.
I have to pee. Bad.
As I sprint to the bathroom, J-man screeches at the upper range of his vocal cords, "'Lion King!!!".
(In the spirit of full disclosure, I must confess that The Lion King is the new favorite and has been dinnertime viewing for the last week. Yup, Mother of the Year. Chicken nuggets and TV, the American way)
Lucky for my bladder, Lion King is already in the DVD player and ready to go. One push of a button and we are off to the races! And boy, did I race!
Just as I get "settled in", I hear the thud of little feet heading toward me. Crap, J-man is coming to pee too!! Will I get booted... midway, so to speak... or will he be willing to use the potty chair? I offer a silent prayer to the Goddess of Kegel Muscles as he comes barreling in. My prayers were heard.... he chose the potty chair.
Just as his bum hits the plastic, however, the beginning strands of the Lion King flow into the bathroom. J-man's eyes go big and round. He jumps up and "runs"... underwear around his ankles.... to the living room. I quickly follow (fully clothed) and tell him "No worries... I will pause it. Go potty, honey!".
"No potty!!" he says.
"Yes, go potty! You just went in there to go! It's ok." I say.
"NO POTTY!! LION KING!", he shouts as he pulls up his pants.
"Okay, okay," I concede, silently consoling myself that maybe he didn't have to go that bad.
J-man settles on the sofa, chicken nuggets forgotten. Feeling much more relaxed, I wander to the kitchen to rustle up something to eat myself. Big Daddy comes in and we chit-chat for a bit, and then we wander back to the living room.
And there is J-man, at the DVD player, trying to stop the movie with one hand while pulling down is pants with the other. He has a combined look of determination and panic as it becomes clear to me that he is trying take the DVD out. It is also abundantly clear to me that yes... indeed... he does have to go to the bathroom. NOW.
As Big Daddy and I laugh at this half-exposed bum, J-man pulls the disk out of the DVD player and races (pants halfway down) to the bathroom.....
... and makes it!!!
(Might I proudly add that it was #2, too.)
And that is how you know when your autistic kid is truly potty-trained!
Once again I am thrilled to be highlighted by the folks over at Best of the Best! Check out this months very very funny blog posts!