This year instead of our traditional trip to a faraway place, my wife and I stayed home and our children and grandchildren gathered in Phoenix. Some went skiing, others went elsewhere, but we had a chance to spend some quality alone time with our three-year-old grandson Arlo. It was a fantastic holiday.
Arlo wasn’t quite potty trained, and his first day was one of over indulgence. Before going to bed, he had an accident on the carpet outside our bedroom door. He was quite miserable and I promised to tell him a story the next day when he sat on the potty. He loves to listen to stories, and the next day he took me by the hand went he had to go potty.
While Arlo sat on the toilet, I sat on the floor in front of him and started… when Indian boys his age learned how to become warriors they were taught how to shoot a bow and arrow; how to hold it steady, and most importantly when to let the arrow go so that it would be sure to hit the target. When those boys got bigger they learned how to shoot straight even when they’re riding fast, they knew just when to let the arrow go to shoot that buffalo.
I told him becoming a warrior, was all about learning when to let things go. If he could learn to let his poop go on the potty like an arrow that hits the target, he could become a young warrior.
By the time I finished the story he had dumped, which I took as a good sign but my kids said it was a tribute to my ability to talk shit endlessly. He had no accidents the next couple of days. It just so happened that a few days later there was a dance performance at the Heard Museum where my Apache brother Ken Duncan would be performing with his family, the Yellow Bird Dancers.
I told Arlo that since he’d been hitting his target in the toilet that he was now ready to be initiated as a young warriors society. Would you like that? I asked him, and he jumped at the chance. Arlo was entranced by the performance; especially when Ken’s six-year-old grandson performed the hoop dance.
Afterwards, I introduced Arlo to the family and later asked Ken if he would bless the boy as a young warrior. Ken took him to a quiet place, spoke to him, touched and blessed him as he sat on his grandmother’s lap; Arlo was mesmerized. When we left we celebrated his blessing ceremony by going to the store to buy warrior underpants; which he chose.
That was the end of his pooping in his pants (or on the floor). This may be the most effective induction and immediate change that I have ever done… no shit!
P.S. Speaking of no more shit, you’ve got to take a look at my newest e-book Stop Your Sh*t Shoveling. Take the hysterical quiz and find out if you are one and you’ll get a free download of my stories in Horsefeathers.