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Big Boy
by Kara Carlson

The three-year-old I baby-sit for considers himself a big boy. For seven months, he has told me, "I'm a big boy. My baby is a baby." He has a ten-month-old brother. This month, he realized that real big boys and real men pee standing up. Only little boys piss sitting down.

A few afternoons ago, when I picked him up from kindy, he whispered to me, "I did standing-up wees." His face looked like it had been injected with happy pills. His skin glowed. Five minutes later, I grasped that his face was just wet with pee from his roaming penis.

This morning, the three-year-old screamed, "I'm doing standing-up wees, I'm doing standing-up wees, I'm doing standing-up wees," as he sprinted for the bathroom. His mom was standing next to me. She looked like he had just confirmed that he had raped a sheep.

"Don't do wees standing up," she screamed, chasing him, "Don't do wees standing up."

I followed her, naturally.

We entered the bathroom to see his underwear and pants at his feet, marinating in piss. Pee eclipsed the bathroom. It looked like the atomic bomb of piss had exploded. Everywhere.

The mom exhaled and said, "You're not big enough to do standing-up wees."

"My doodle's tiny," the three-year-old sighed.

"Yes," his mom agreed. "Daddy says you have to wait until your doodle's longer before you do standing-up wees."