My daughter, Godivy, is 4. She’s been toilet trained for well over a year. But she still has a habit of asking me to wipe her bottom. Unfortunately, this is not limited to me. But also anyone who visits our house. The Auntie. The Grandad. The Dinner Guest. She starts school in September so we are just beginning the journey to getting her to do this herself.
‘You LOVE wiping my bottom, don’t you?’
I’m not sure how we’ve got to a place where one of us always has to wipe Godivy’s bottom every time she does a poo.
She’s been far easier to toilet train than her sister ever was. And yet her sister never made us do this. Maybe it’s down to her slightly obsessive cleanliness or it’s possible that she just thinks we really, really enjoy doing it.
The latter might be partly my fault, after she asked me to wipe her bottom once and I replied sarcastically, ‘Ooh I’d LOVE to!‘
The next time she asked me, clearly misinterpreting my sarcasm as most 4 year olds would, she said, ‘You REALLY like wiping my bottom, don’t you?‘
And, stupidly, I didn’t have the heart to tell her otherwise.
Enter if you dare.
Now? That sarcasm has come back to bite me on the bum. Pardon the pun.
Because not only does Godivy delight in asking me to wipe her bottom but she also has no qualms in asking anyone who is brave enough to enter our house. Her absolute favourite person is my sister, her (childless) Auntie. But she has been known to ask almost complete strangers. I’m talking friends of ours she doesn’t know all that well, rather than the Gas Man.
Although I wouldn’t put that past her.
‘Sisters are doing it for themselves.’
With four months to go until she starts school, it’s started to dawn on me that she needs to be able to wipe her bottom herself. So I’m starting slowly. And sowing the seed.
‘Godivy. You’re going to school soon.‘
‘I know, Mummy.‘
‘Well, who’s going to wipe your bottom there? You’re going to need to do it yourself.‘
With complete and utter confidence, she tells me that no, she won’t have to do it herself. Because her sister, Beaver (who’s in the same school), will do it for her. Obviously.
And I have visions of Beaver being disturbed during a crucial Year 3 science class to come to the rescue of her sister, who is waiting patiently in the reception toilets, with a not so patient queue of other four and five year olds desperate for the loo.
I think Godivy’s taking the meaning of that song, ‘Sisters are doing it for themselves,’ a little too literally.
And I know that Beaver will NEVER forgive me if I even dare to let this happen.
So on we must go.