Being unable to get downstairs in the night to visit the toilet has been a major inconvenience, for Katie. I am enjoying the concept of the potty and have now found a method which makes the process easy, almost fun. She on the other hand is having problems sleeping while someone else is weeing in the bed.
Her response to this, even though she knows it is necessary, has been to pass a pithy comment at some point during the process, sometimes while I am waiting for it to begin, or maybe during the flow, and sometimes at the end.
Nothing nasty but enough to take the edge off my fun.
"Come on, push it out." or
"Tinkle tinkle little star." and so it goes.
It got to the point where my ability to go was being hampered because I was waiting for the comment to air, before I could get on with business. Eventually I had to say something.
"Katie, I appreciate that it is not conducive to a good night's sleep to have someone weeing in your bed. I know that. But I can do it all much quicker and more efficiently if I am not dreading your pithy comment at some point."
"Oh." She was a little taken aback. "Well it's not much fun waking up to hear the splash of urine disturb the quiet night air." She was a little defensive.
"I know and as soon as I can walk again the potty will go." I tried to hide my regret. "Ok? But please stop it with the pithy comments."
She nodded agreement.
Phew. I'd seen a problem, I'd addressed it and thus avoided a potential cold war.
Nightime came after the discussion and at about 2am the urge to pee arrived. Creeping up on me unnoticed until it became urgent. Aware of our earlier discussion I attempted to do it in silence.
I slowly picked up the potty, got into position and started. All good. No comment from Katie, although I could tell from her breathing that she was awake. I thought she was probably struggling hard not to say anything but appreciated her effort.
All done, the potty went back under the bed and I lay back, feeling much more comfortable. Just as I was congratulating her, in my head, for not saying anything, she slowly but deliberately nudged me with her elbow. It wasn't a shove, but was more than a brush.
That elbow spoke volumes.
"I heard you wee." it said "but I kept quiet. I don't like you weeing in the bed, but I am adult enough to realise it is required. I am the better the person and we both know it."
In the morning, as I delivered the coffee, I had to say something.
"Thanks for keeping quiet during the wee. Was the pithy elbow really necessary?"
She smiled and supped her coffee. The Pithy Elbow was born and now rules over me.
Her response to this, even though she knows it is necessary, has been to pass a pithy comment at some point during the process, sometimes while I am waiting for it to begin, or maybe during the flow, and sometimes at the end.
Nothing nasty but enough to take the edge off my fun.
"Come on, push it out." or
"Tinkle tinkle little star." and so it goes.
It got to the point where my ability to go was being hampered because I was waiting for the comment to air, before I could get on with business. Eventually I had to say something.
"Katie, I appreciate that it is not conducive to a good night's sleep to have someone weeing in your bed. I know that. But I can do it all much quicker and more efficiently if I am not dreading your pithy comment at some point."
"Oh." She was a little taken aback. "Well it's not much fun waking up to hear the splash of urine disturb the quiet night air." She was a little defensive.
"I know and as soon as I can walk again the potty will go." I tried to hide my regret. "Ok? But please stop it with the pithy comments."
She nodded agreement.
Phew. I'd seen a problem, I'd addressed it and thus avoided a potential cold war.
Nightime came after the discussion and at about 2am the urge to pee arrived. Creeping up on me unnoticed until it became urgent. Aware of our earlier discussion I attempted to do it in silence.
I slowly picked up the potty, got into position and started. All good. No comment from Katie, although I could tell from her breathing that she was awake. I thought she was probably struggling hard not to say anything but appreciated her effort.
All done, the potty went back under the bed and I lay back, feeling much more comfortable. Just as I was congratulating her, in my head, for not saying anything, she slowly but deliberately nudged me with her elbow. It wasn't a shove, but was more than a brush.
That elbow spoke volumes.
"I heard you wee." it said "but I kept quiet. I don't like you weeing in the bed, but I am adult enough to realise it is required. I am the better the person and we both know it."
In the morning, as I delivered the coffee, I had to say something.
"Thanks for keeping quiet during the wee. Was the pithy elbow really necessary?"
She smiled and supped her coffee. The Pithy Elbow was born and now rules over me.
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