Soon my son will commence his third year at the preschool I brought him to for their "Terrific Twos" class and decided he'd stay. He loves school. The teachers love him. However ... I'm dreading the bathroom issue.
Eddie is the first one in and the last one out of the bathroom. The teacher has pulled me aside on several occasions and asked, "Why does he take so long in there?" with narrowed eyes.
I wish I knew. I pushed my husband for a place with more than one bathroom because HE took forever in the bathroom. I tried taking the magazines out, but he just brought them right back in. Eddie can read, but this is not the problem.
He has to do everything in a set order. Pants down, seat up. God forbid someone else hasn't flushed—he has to do that first. Pees. Uses exactly two sheets of toilet paper to wipe himself, then the rim. Pants up, seat down, flush. Then off to wash hands. One finger at a time. Lather up. Rinse. Dry.
I was told once he had to be rescued from the bathroom because the presence of the bigger boys—kindergarteners—threw him off his routine.
"Punishment," my mother smiles, for my own bathroom antics. Don't get me wrong: I'm glad he's tidy. I'm glad he's toilet trained. I just hope this year he speeds things up a little.