A little three year old child has an interest in the toilet feature of his living arrangement, in your case its a porta potty. I recall reading once a set of stories called Outhouse Tales. After reading that series, it sank in what a critical role the outdoor toilet plays in children’s (and adults) lives. A place for lurking creatures real and imagined, nighttime events, happenings, accidents and issues were played out in the toilet around it and about it. It seems to be so for you, little one.
I seed a real snake in my porta potty. I missed the part that I spose to sit on and peed on the gravel. We have a spidey living next to the toilet paper and its our friend. Maybe I need a night-night diaper a little while longer. Its okay to wear one when I’m five. its okay, really.
Maybe you do, fella. It is okay. It must hard to unzip the tent, wiggle out, shove feet into chilly crocs, slog across the gravel and then still mostly asleep, find the courage to open the green plastic door of the thing with the only light a tiny push light so dim its nearly dark. And if its been six days with no empty, ugh. Forget it. That’s what mommy’s are for. (Changing pants in the middle of the night.)
You build a porta potty into your block structures, your drawings and today told me that you wanted me to Google a porta potty for your fairies- the ones that mommy made out of beads and fabric. I looked at the Lego and the Playmobile websites and actually found a picture of one. I had just thrown away a small box from face cream that would have been perfect, but as I said, I threw it away. So in town you asked the lady at the toy store “please, do you have a porta potty for my fairies?” What? bending down low as if her hearing was poorly adjusted. After you repeated your request louder for her and said that your grandma Googled it. She asked me what company and Guess what? She had one!
You put it together before we got home and now the playmobile fairy we added to your homemade collection sits here doing her sweet little delicate, wing flapping thing in there. I noticed that you carefully reposition her wings so she’d fit. I hope you let her in on the secret: That magic, pretend little bottoms are well served by a fake little plastic roll.
You and Delphine play fairies at school. I guess its a thing now with little girls. And the boy play is about shooters and stabbing things and its too scary you told me. (ha, wait until you’re four) Well, Delphine, I wonder where you get your fairy info.
What do fairies eat, I asked. You explained more about them than I ever knew. “Grass and bugs, grandma! Of course.” After all that flying around, supping nectar, eating bugs and a blades of grass, porta potties are quite handy placed along the flight pattern, I guess. “The finding of dragons that want to chase princesses and pretend eat them with their hot fire teeth makes them so tired. That’s because mommy and me made her a bed to rest. And I take off her wings for sleeping. And sing her a song and she’s asleep. ”
Does she need a night night diaper?
Of course not. She’s pretend.
Of course. Like the fake TP roll. I get it.
Are there boy fairies? Oh, never mind. I’ll let this one spin itself out. gma