A Mother Always Knows
Ever since Parley watched a certain cousin peedle outside, we've struggled. I didn't know about it until I watched him drop his pants in the family room and head to the front door.
"Parley! What are you doing?"
"I need to peedle!"
"Parley, we don't peedle outside!"
"Yes! I want to!"
Tantrum, tantrum, BIG tantrum.
Then Hazel chimed in:
"He peedled in the backyard this morning."
We've had a number of talks about peedling since then:
We don't peedle outside. We don't peedle outside. We don't peedle outside. We only peedle outside if we're camping. We don't peedle outside.
A few days after the first incident and subsequent talks, Jed and I babysat our nieces and nephews for an evening. Abbie, the very responsible niece, offered to take the kids to the park across the street. What babysitter would pass that offer up? After 45 minutes or so, I called the kids home. When we were alone for a minute, Abbie told me that Parley peedled outside, and of the neighbor kids said, "Gross!" Awesome.
Later, while putting his jams on, I said, "Parley, I heard you peedled outside at the park."
He thought for a minute, with a very sorry and serious face. Finally, he said, "You heered a new sound and thought, that's Parley peedling?
It took a second to put it together, but he thought I actually heard him peedle all the way across the street.
"Yep." I said, with a disappointed face.
"I'm sorry I peedled outside."
And to my knowledge (and extra sensitive ears) it hasn't happened since.