My 17 month-old son, Liam, is watched during the workweek by his grandmothers, on a daily rotating basis.
My mom was at-bat today and called me this morning shortly after I left the house, telling me that she had already changed a dirty diaper and gave him a little undercarriage bath in our sink.
"He peed in the sink," she said.
"I guess you could consider that his first foray into potty-training."
"I guess you could," I said.
I couldn't help but think about the fascinating New Yorker article from last week about Gerry Foos, a man who purchased a hotel and constructed an elaborate hidden-viewing station above the rooms. He watched the rooms from above for decades, taking exhaustive notes about what humans - who are away from home - do when they don't think anybody is watching.
One of the things he found was that "more men than (he) could count urinated in the sink."
My mom said that Liam was now walking around and pulling at the adhesive on his diaper. A driving force in his life right now is removing a diaper that he has easy access to. Because of this, we rarely allow him to go sans pants.
"Be careful," I said. "If that diaper comes off, a little cool air to the area will make him pee."
"OOOH, he just ripped the diaper off," my mom said, "and he is peeing on the floor!"
"At least it's on the wood and not a carpeted area."