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All About the WeeWee

November 18, 2009

I’m just going to let it all hang out here for the length of this post, and you have no choice but to let it all hang out with me. My son has weewee issues. (And I’ll just apologize up front: because I was raised to cloak everything in polite southern euphemism, I simply can’t bring myself to use the clinically correct “P” word in this post. So bless my Virginia heart, it’s a WEEWEE.)


Lawson climbed in the car after school one afternoon holding himself gingerly and said, “Momma, something’s been hurting me all day long. You know, kind of on the inside.”


Well, no I don’t know. Not really. But those are words enough to strike fear into a mother’s heart, I can assure you. Visions of impotency were dancing through my head. So I broke every speed limit driving home (which isn’t actually something new), ushered Autumn out of Lawson’s presence, stood him on a stool and gave him the directive.


“Drop your britches.”


I managed to control my unease at the very painful looking, purplish, swollen mass on his weewee. “Hmmm. I think maybe….yeah. I think maybe this is a task for your father. Okay. Pull your pants up and go play. And don’t scratch it.” Immediately I called my husband, who was on his way home from work. “Ummm. There’s something wrong with your son’s weewee that you need to take care of. I think you might need to take him to the doctor.”


After a brief check, Duane definitely concurred, and off they went to the urgent care center. You would’ve thought the kid had a broken arm, or at the very least a broken weewee. As it turned out, it was a spider bite—have you ever in your life heard of a spider deciding to lunch on a kid’s weewee? What a perverted spider. I would really like to have a talk with this spider.


Lawson has lots of weewee moments, though, all aimed at embarrassing his mother and cracking us all up—so why not a spider-bite-weewee-moment? There was of course the Bassinet Blessing, where I figured out very quickly that the weewee needed to be covered during diaper changes, or he would christen me and anything else within a six-foot radius. There have been countless gravitating weewee ticks that daddy has to take care of, because mommy won’t pry them off with a ten foot pole, for fear of causing permanent damage to sensitive areas.


My personal favorite, though, occurred when we were driving down the road driving down the road with Grandmommy-Far-Away (my mother). Lawson, around three years old at the time, piped up from the backseat, “when will my weewee get as big as daddy’s?”


I was useless for the rest of the day, because I’m just really not adult enough for such conversations.

6 Comments leave one →
  1. November 18, 2009 11:00 am

    Should I be laughing? Because I am SO totally laughing. And uncomfortable, because who likes to discuss such a topic? Around here it’s called a pee-thing. I used to use the correct term but my oldest boy would cringe every time I did and I figured it was HIS anatomy so he could call it what he so desired. Am I really leaving a comment on this?


  2. Lori permalink*
    November 18, 2009 5:53 pm

    (from Facebook posts)

    Shelley: LOVE the new blog. I hate that my good laugh was at Lawson’s expense, but it was pretty funny!

    Stephen: I was asked the same question by my son the best reply I could come up w/ was “Eat your vegetables, son.”

  3. Lori permalink*
    November 19, 2009 8:31 am

    (more Facebook comments…)

    Harvey : Ahhh the joys of parenthood!

    10 hours ago · Jason : Lori, this gave me a good laugh. Not about the weewee, but the way you term things. You should write. You are very good at telling stories! Hope the weewee gets better soon.

    9 hours ago · Betty: Hope he’s feeling better soon. This is priceless. Lawson sure comes up with some winner moments. I hope you write everyone of them down because in 10 years he won’t believe he said them.

    7 hours ago · Lori Wray White: Thanks, Jason & Betty–I do write about all of those “winner” moments, and plenty of “ordinary” moments, too, on my blog–that’s where all of this stuff comes from. I appreciate the compliment. 🙂

  4. Lindsey permalink
    November 29, 2009 7:46 am

    Ha! That’s hilarious. Especially your closing anecdote of other ‘weewee’ incidents.

  5. Laura permalink
    November 29, 2009 10:16 am

    Laughing so hard my hoo hoo hurts!!!!! HAHAHAHAHA!!!

  6. Lori permalink*
    December 7, 2009 10:06 pm

    Thanks, Linds and Laura! Sorry this reply took a while–I’ve been swamped and have been restraining myself from the computer. Love the hoo hoo comment, Laura. Jeez I miss you and your humor.

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