Whenever the opportunity arises, like any time he is changing, Callum feels the need to stick his penis out the top of his underwear and/or pants/pajama bottoms/swim trunks and then draw attention to it. Even though the rest of us are totally desensitized to this particular brand of humor, Callum cannot be convinced it is anything less than pure comedic gold that bears repeating no less than twice daily.
You would think a kid like that would pee on a damn tree.
At the park:
C: "I have to pee!"
Mom: "Okay, let's go water that tree way over there."
C: "No, I need a potty."
Mom: "But you can pee on a tree just like a bear!"
C, with total utter confusion and sadness: "But Mom, I am not a bear. I am a human."
C, as we hike to the car, and I'm racking my brain for the nearest restroom while loading four children and all their crap: "Hurry, please."
He cannot be convinced. I have tried, and tried. And tried.
Yay for teenagers who can escort their younger siblings in while you park the car. Fifteen minutes later I am approaching the nearest grocery store bathroom, located at the far end of produce, just past the double doors leading to the stockroom. Halfway through the store I can see that not only are the stockroom doors open, so is the bathroom door, with a perfectly framed side view of Callum: pants on the floor, hands on hips supporting his back, pelvis thrust forward, streaming arch of pee.
Right as I was face-palming my damn self a male employee walking by chuckled and tapped the door shut.
No, you're totally right Callum, peeing on a tree on the far end of the park where no one can see would be madness.
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