I haven't been posting much lately. I have decided to correct this posting deficiency by trying to write something every day. Even if it's only one sentence. Even if it's about things like #2 son's fecal phobia.
In a nutshell, #2 son doesn't like to wipe his own butt. He also will only poop naked. Until recently, he would strip down completely to take a dump. Now, he leaves his socks on. He also leaves the bathroom door open. I will walk by and see a 7 year old boy sitting on the toilet wearing only white socks.
He also hates pooping in any toilet other than our's at home. He refuses to do it in a public restroom (Probably a wise choice. I should give him a little credit here).
After careful consideration and much thoughtful analysis, I couldn't figure out why he did this so I asked him. He said "I don't want to get poop on me". Ah. He has a fear of feces. There is a medical term for this. Coprophobia. There is a web site devoted to this problem.
I can see how this could be a problem for him. We often refer to him as the messiest kid on the planet. He can destroy a room in under a minute. He can't eat anything without getting it all over him, the table, the floor, his brother, the neighbor's cat...I believe he knows this about himself. Thus, the fear of poop.
"Dad, I have to go poop"
OK, tell me when you're done.
10 minutes later: "I'M Done!"
I wipe his butt
"Am I clean?"
Put's clothes back on.
This is the usual scenerio. Except for one time. I was at work and S had a bunch of girls over for one of those parties where one of the girls sells a bunch of junk to the others that they don't need and then tries to force the other girls to host a party themselves so they can buy more junk from each other and the hostess of the party can get free junk.
"Mom, I have to go poop"
OK, let me know when you're done.
Since the party was going on downstairs, #2 son went upstairs to use the facilities. The party was loud. The women were drinking. The son was forgotten.
I get home from work.
"Where's #2 son?"
Oh my god! she replied. He's upstairs pooping!
"How long has he been up there?"
I run up the stairs and hear a little boy screaming hysterically "IM DONE!" over and over. There were tears in his eyes. I wipe his bottom and tell him how sorry I am.
"Mommy forgot you were up here". He'd spent approximately 30 minutes on the toilet.
To prevent this tragedy from ever happening again we have instituted a progressive butt wiping program. Initially, after pooping, #2 son had to wipe his own butt once, then we'd finish up for him. Then he had to wipe his butt twice. We would check his work and do additional wiping as necessary. Starting next week he's on his own.
If this technique proves successful, we'll use the same method for the clothes. We'll add in one clothing item that he must wear while pooping each week until he is no longer shedding any of his clothes onto the bathroom floor. I think it's going to work.
Now I need to get him to stop quoting John Cleese from Monty Python and the Holy Grail when he says in his silly French accent "You tiny brained wiper of other people's bottoms".