At camp, we have to take our campers to the bathroom, because they are five and can't go alone. When female counselors take boys, we stay out in the hall while the boys go to the bathroom.
On Friday I took a boy to the bathroom. I was just waiting in the hall. He shouted out to me "I pooped!"
"Okay!" I shouted back, and waited for him to finish up and come out.
" he shouted again. As if he expected something from me.
"Okay," I replied again. "Wipe, wash your hands, and come out."
"But I pooped!" he repeated.
I just waited. Knowing what was next.
"I pooped and I can't wipe."
I sighed and began to kind of laugh. "You just kind of wipe. Just wipe until the toilet paper is clean..." I tried to explain. I don't know how boys are supposed to wipe
. If it's different than girls.
Another counselor was waiting at the bathrooms for some girls to come out. She was laughing. Pretty hard. "Do you want me to get a guy?" she asked.
I feel bad for the two male counselors. They always have to go break up fights, or harness kids, or help them do who-knows-what in the boys bathroom. But, I didn't know what else to do, so "Yeah, I think so," I laughed back to her. (Don't worry. All these laughs were very quiet laughs. The boy couldn't hear us from in the bathroom.)
"[Camper's Name], all you need to do is wipe," I continued trying to explain. "Come on, everyone's inside. We need to get ready to go to the pool." I thought maybe if I hurried him enough, he'd just do it. But no.
"I need help!!"
"Okay, a guy counselor is coming," I reassured him.
The guy counselor came. With an exasperated not-another-boy-having-problems-in-the-bathroom-that-I-need-to-fix look on his face.
"[Guy Counselor's Name], [Camper's Name] pooped and he doesn't know how to wipe. Explain it to him," I commanded and pointed directed him into the bathroom. While trying to hold a serious look on my face.
So the guy counselor went into the bathroom. Then came running out a minute later.
"Did you fix it?" I asked.
"I showed him how to wipe, like this," he said. Pretending to wipe.
"Well, is he doing it?" I pestered.
"I don't know. Bye!" And he ran back to the classroom.
"[Camper's Name], are you coming out?!" I hollered into the bathroom. I had walked about half-way into the bathroom by this time.
Finally, after another five minutes or so, he emerged from the bathroom. And then cried when he found out that we were done playing outside, and had to get ready for the pool.