There are moments in parenting that are special. Moments where we're so proud we're sure we could burst. I almost had a moment like that last night before my middle child destroyed it. Let me set the stage. My daughter and I live in a house with boys. I quickly learned that they're messy, especially in the bathroom.
I'll never forget the day I walked into the bathroom at our old house and discovered urine dripping from my ceiling and wall. My oldest, who was four at the time, proudly announced he had tried to pee on the ceiling to see if it would "just fall" (he meant ricochet) into the toilet. It did not and he didn't think to tell anyone about the little mishap. He waited until his mother, who was raised in a house with girls by a mother who only had sisters, walked into the bathroom and nearly fainted before mentioning what had gone down in that bathroom. That was not the reason we moved from that house, but it probably should have been because my bathroom never smelled right after that day.
Due to that incident, and some others, we have a rule: if you're too lazy to clean up your mess, you sit down. I've been over it with them a thousand times: no one wants pee dribbles and I will not be the one to clean up after them. I'm totally the mom who wakes them up at midnight if I discover their bathroom is messy. I refuse to deal with it. So, my boys know. They're pretty good about it.
Last night, my middle son ran up to my bathroom and quickly sat down on the toilet. I was in my room writing and he's casually chatting with me while he pees. We have no issues with being comfortable showing our bodies. As I walk by the bathroom, I see him grab a little bit of toilet paper. In my mom mind, he was being considerate and wiping his penis so he didn't dribble. I commended him on this weird thoughtfulness that any future girlfriends or wives will surely appreciate.
He looked at me weird and said, "I'm not wiping my penis mom. I had a really wet fart and I need to wipe after that one."
My mom moment was completely....gone. Shattered. Destroyed. Then we had a discussion about sharts and that's what it's like to be a mom to a boy.