More toilet tales

I've considered Brett toilet trained for some time now. He won't poop in a public place after an unfortunate incident in a campground outhouse, but he pees everywhere without complaint -- sitting, standing; toilets urinals -- the boy's practically a pro.

He still wears a Pull-up at night, which, quite frankly, I don't care if he does until high school. I don't think it makes that big a difference. Plus I don't want to spend the next few years washing sheets every morning.

Every once in a while, Brett has a day where he misses the signals and pees in his pants or on the bathroom floor. No big deal. Except this Saturday I was at the end of my rope. He did it three times, including once in the van where he was listening to the end of a song before coming into the house. By the time he peed the third time, I had his pants out of the dryer from the first time. (Four loads of laundry Saturday. I'm just sayin.')

They say their potty training can go off the rails occasionally at this age, especially if they're learning something else. Then once the new thing is mastered, their butts get back in line too (so to speak).

This morning I got Brett out of bed to discover he was soaking wet from the waist down. Randy and *swear* we put a pull-up on him before bed. What happened? Brett finally told us: "I took it off."

"So, where is it?"

"I put it in the garbage."

"You mean to tell me you climbed out of your bed, went to the bathroom, took off your pyjama bottoms, took off your pull-up and put it in the garbage, then put your pyjama bottoms back on and climbed back up into your bed?"

"That's what I did."

On the plus side, I guess he's mastered the ladder on his new bed. Now that he has, maybe the bladder control will come back.