My four year old Jason is usually well behaved, but sometimes tests the limits. This last time really caught me off guard!
I was running late at the office in a meeting and dashed straight out to pick up Jason at the day care center. From the center it is usually a 1/2 hour drive home but we got caught behind a tractor-trailer jackknife. No one was hurt, but the road was blocked for almost an hour. I should mention that I am 5 months pregnant with my second child.
Once traffic started moving again, I realized I could not make it home without a pit stop! As I pulled over to a rest area, I told Jason "This one time, Mommy first!" Jason responded "No, Jason first!"
As I opened the door to the small Ladies room (one sink and toilet), Jason ducked under my elbow and dashed to the john, already unzipping. 99% of the time, I would of course let Jason go first, but this time I was desperate. Before Jason could start peeing, I gently lifted him by his upper arms and turned him around 180 degrees, facing him away from the toilet. At once I hiked my skirt, yanked my pantyhose down (putting my right thumb through the hip of my hose!) and sat down peeing like Niagara Falls. Jason had turned back around facing me again with a scowl on his face. At this point I made the mistake of lecturing him: "Mommy is a lot bigger than you - what she says goes!"
I was stunned by Jason's response: he pointed his organ at the small triangle between my thighs and the front of the toilet seat and began to pee! I was shocked and screamed "No - wait!" but he just grinned and continued for 20 seconds. Then he said "Better stand up, mommy!" and slowly raises his member, forcing me to stand up to avoid the line of fire. I must admit he did not splash a single drop of his on me, but the last 5 or 10 seconds after I stood up I myself peed straight down into the crotchpad of my pantyhose. As this occurred I was furious and yelled at him "Wait until Dad gets home - no TV for you for a month". Even this did not scare him: he calmly reminded me in words of one or two syllables to the effect that I would be too embarrassed to tell Dad (and he's right!).
Writing all this down has definitely calmed me down somewhat: re-reading the incident objectively, half of me is still mad but the other half of me is giggling. Fellow moms: should I punish Jason or just laugh this off?