weapons of massdistraction

After hearing tales from friends with daughters I have, on more than one occasion, been guilty of nodding knowingly while saying: boys are easier. But boys will be boys. Earlier this evening the husband and I were in bed, watching a DVD (disc 2 of an Italian miniseries that I am hopelessly hooked on) on his laptop. I heard the little man get up to go to the bathroom, as he sometimes does at night. No big, right? But something seemed…off. Mother’s intuition prompted me to get up. I opened our bedroom door and looked down the hall. The boy wasn’t in the bathroom. I stepped out and flipped on the hall light. A noise gave the lad away. He was in the computer room. There I found him, standing upright, with his little white butt glowing in the dark, while he peed under the husband’s desk. Doh! He had no idea what was going on. I led him away to the bathroom before getting him settled back into bed. In the meantime the husband had run downstairs to grab a bucket and mop. After the poor man finished cleaning up he said “well, at least he didn’t try to poop on my computer chair.” Ever an optimist, that one.