Family Man: Bathroom Humor

What’s unusual about this ritual isn’t that we concoct adventures of four superhero robots and their fearless preschool leader (Benjamin himself), but that each tale is told while Benjamin sits on the potty.

Before you all get grossed out about the venue, let me posit this question: Besides the kitchen, where do you spend a lot of undistracted face-time with your kids? Four out of five of you will say the bathroom. The fifth parent is lying.

When my first son entered the world, I felt out-of-the-loop in the feeding department (my wife breastfed). So I claimed bath-giving as my exclusive duty. For the first washup, I prepped like a surgeon with the sponge mat, a bowl of tepid water and hospital-issue soap. Then, I almost relieved myself of all fatherly privileges when I let Benjamin roll off the counter before catching him between my knees and the sink cabinet.

It wasn’t the last time someone cried in the bathroom. (Do our children care how much knee and back pain is caused by leaning over the tub?) But, for the most part, the tile-and-porcelain environment has become a refuge from the stress of the day and an oasis of parenting rituals.

Good, Clean Fun
When Benjamin graduated from the sink to the baby-tub, I made a habit of singing the themes from Bonanza and The Odd Couple, and more Raffi than this U2 and Miles Davis fan ever imagined. The songs got monotonous after a while, but they became a soundtrack for Benjamin once he learned to splash water by kicking his legs and flailing his arms like a Russian folk dancer. Of course, I didn’t mind getting drenched. A water-mark was just one of the many badges of parenting honor, along with spit-up and strained-carrot handprints.