Henry played this afternoon in the back yard while I mowed the lawn. He would hide a little Spiderman toy in funny places, then ask me to find it. Every four or five passes with the mower, I would take a break to look for Spidey.
"Is he over here by the tree?" I'd ask.
"May-bee!" he would giggle.
I made a big production of looking in places I knew it wasn't. Henry was having a blast.
Which is probably why he allowed his bladder to get as full as he did. He was playing with himself little-boy style an awful lot.
"Hey, Hen. Do you have to pee?"
"Nope," he quickly replied. "Now where is that Spiderman?"
Finally, he announced he had to go. I told him to go ahead and run upstairs. He ran to the back door, and froze.
"Dad. I need help."
"You know how to open the door," I said. "Go on up. I'll be right here."
"Daaaaaaaad. I need -"
A little stain appeared at the front of his grey jogging pants.
He looked so disappointed with himself. I could see him straining to hold it in.
"It's OK, buddy." I said. "Just go, man."
Relief. And a huge pee stain on my deck.
I'm secure in the knowledge that Henry doesn't feel bad about his little mistake... and that it's going to rain tonight.