Who Gives a Crap?

We are going through toilet training at the moment. And when I say we, I mean me. My son is already brilliant at going to the toilet - in his nappies. He has zero interest in exchanging bulky, uncomfortable, plastic wadding for the sleek, streamlined comfort of cotton. He does not care that he will be able to run faster, smell better, and be able to strut around the playground knowing he is worthy of the title 'Big Boy' (which is something I imagine all men would be thrilled to be called). And I have no idea how to make him care. Obviously, my toilet training techniques are... crap.

My enthusiastic "Come on, bubba, let's go to the bathroom!" is met with the cheerfully firm, "No". "I'll give you chocolate!" is countered with the barefaced lie, "Don't like chock-wit". Even "Come on and we can tell Daddy how neat you are" is answered with the improbable yet admirable, "Sorry Mummy, I'm working right now."

Some people have star charts stuck up on the fridge. Wees earn gold stars, poos earn... well... brown stars, I suppose. My son could care less about stars. Sticky pictures just do not compare to the sticky pleasure of being able to defecate wherever and whenever he likes.

And I don't want to push it for fear of instilling some deep seated paranoia of toilet seats or similar. Even now I have a recurring nightmare that I have to go to the loo but the cubicle has no doors and everyone walking past can see me. The sense of shame is terrifying. I like my toilets fully enclosed and locked. An underground vault with combination lock would be a utopian dream come true.

He's due to start kindy soon. When I shamefacedly told the kindy teacher that he wasn't toilet trained yet, she rolled her eyes and said with the complicit smugness of the sisterhood, "That's boys for you." All the experts (ie, friends with children a little older than mine) assure me that he'll do it when he's good and ready and that boys do take a little longer than normal people. This is something I do not understand - given how much pleasure men seem to get from spending as much time on the toilet as possible later in life. Although now I think about it, the extended visits are probably making up for the excessive amount of time they spent in nappies as toddlers. Hmmm.

When we did our kindy visit, a little bell rang for lunch and all the kids rushed off to the bathroom to wash their hands. Naturally I, with my innate sense of herd mentality followed them. And what do you think I saw? A row of toilet cubicles with no doors. As I blindly hyperventilated my way out of the room, I thought, sod it. Toilet training can go stuff itself.

I'll do it when I'm good and ready.