How Not To Toilet Train The Kids


It’s important, when you go to the loo, to make sure there’s enough bum tickets to get the job done. How important? Take this evening, for example…

When I ducked out to grab a towel for my girls there were suddenly conflicting sounds coming out of the bathroom. Riotous laughter and indignant shouts blended together into a mess of sound.

Our bathroom, as I may have mentioned before, has a bath, shower, dryer, sink, tub, two washing machines and, sadly for Master8, the toilet. Not that we’re usually doing all these things at once, it just sometimes the needs of different family members coincide. But basically it’s a big multipurpose room.

Which means the shouts and laughter were reverberating and creating the sort of noise movie sound guys use for crowd scenes.

“What the hell is going on…”

What was going on was perfectly obvious and wonderfully hilarious.

Miss6, Miss4 and Miss1 were in the bath while Miss10 was having a shower next to them. Master8 was on the toilet.

He was butt naked except for a couple of wet undies he was pulling off his chest and head, and around his feet were a few other garments of clothing and bath toys.

Even as I stood at the door a little rubber duck flew out of Miss1’s hand and hit him on the leg.

“Dad!” yelled Master8. “Tell them to stop!”

My three youngest were all standing in the bath and either throwing bath toys or dunking their clothes in the water to give them some weight and lobbing them at him.

“Hey! That’s enough!” I bellowed.

They probably would have stopped a lot sooner if I could have controlled my laughing every time they threw something new at him.

“Dad!” begged Master8, pulling yet another pair of undies off his head.

Naturally, I wanted to know how this started, ostensibly so I could make plans to assure it never happened again, but mainly because I wanted to be able to write it up in tonight’s blog.

“I asked if someone could throw me some toilet paper,” said Master8. His littlest sister had obliged by getting out of the bath, grabbing him the baby wipes and tossing them at his feet. “Next thing you know everyone’s throwing things at me.”

“Well, no more,” I said in my daddy voice, and again went to grab a towel for the girls.

“Dad!” yelled Master8.

I ducked my head back in the room. “What mate?”

“Can I have some toilet paper please?”

“Sure mate,” I said. “Sorry.”

Grinning, I reached above the dryer and took down three rolls of paper which I then handed to Miss6, Miss4 and Miss1.

“Help your brother out, would you,” I said.

And, with more than a hint of pure joy, they all took aim at Master8’s head and let fly.

Yeah, I  think it’ll be a while before he forgets to check there’s enough paper on the holder.

Possible solution.

If we got a chuckle out of you please repay with a share 🙂

When not over here, Bruce hangs out at his Big Family Little Income Facebook Page.

Come join us 🙂

”Raising a family on little more than laughs.”

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