A Pilgrim’s Digression

I couldn’t resist this blog post opportunity. It was just handed right to me.

Brendan was taking a bath this weekend, and as usual he asked me for a straw. He likes to use a straw as a rather ineffective snorkel. Every once in awhile, I popped in on him to check on his progress, as he alternately played and washed himself.

Then, I heard, “Dad, come watch this.”

I went in the bathroom, and he was sitting in his bath, holding the straw to the tip of his penis and peeing through the straw into his bath water. He was holding the straw upright so that the pee shot up in the air, making him look like a cherub in a fountain.

“That is really amazing,” I said. Yes, it was disgusting, but I figured the soapy water would pretty much dilute the pee.

Brendan laughed, and then he put the straw to his mouth to go back to “snorkeling.” Hardly had it touched his lips than he suddenly took the straw away from his mouth and made a face as if he had just tasted a pickle (Brendan hates pickles).

“You realize you just tasted your own pee, right?” I say.

Smacking his lips in an attempt to get the taste out of his mouth, Brendan said, “Tastes salty.”

“I wouldn’t know,” I said. (In truth, I probably do know what it tastes like, if I really thought about it. Anyone who has ever performed oral sex on someone has probably tasted the tang of urine)

On top of that, he has told a couple people, out of the blue and with some degree of pride, “I tasted my own pee.”

We are trying to get him to understand the inappropriateness of displaying his Yellow Badge of Accidental Urophagia quite so prominently, however.