The Map-Maker's Mother

MapKid (who returned from Oklahoma City yesterday afternoon and started school today–and yes, there was celebratory skipping) has developed an odd and annoying problem of getting up umpteen billion times at night to go to the bathroom.

Now, I can understand the occasional trip to the loo in the wee hours, but this is on an entirely different scale. Four, five, even six times he pops out of bed, switches on the light, and shuffles through the living room announcing, “I’ve got to go to the restroom.” (It’s always “restroom,” not “bathroom.” My kid can be oddly formal sometimes.) Last night, for example, he was veritable jack-in-the-box from 8:00 until 11:30.

He often seems to have trouble getting to sleep at night, so I figured this was just an excuse to get out of bed. However, when I mentioned it to my mother-in-law a few weeks ago, she raised the question of whether or not he could have some kind or urinary tract or bladder infection.

So that night as he was getting ready for bed, I asked him if it ever hurt when he went pee-pee. “Maybe sometimes,” he said.

This wasn’t very convincing, but I couldn’t let the child wander around with an undiagnosed infection, so I explained that he might be a little bit sick. We would go to the doctor the next day and she could give him medicine that would make him feel better.

He continued to put on his PJs, but he looked uncharacteristically solemn. He put his clothes in his hamper with remarkable restraint and picked out two books without shrieking or throwing himself on the floor once. Clearly he had something on his mind.

“What are you thinking about, kiddo?” I asked him, as we settled together on the bed with the books.

He took a deep breath. “Mommy?” he said, “Do I have a growing problem?”

I looked at him blankly. Growing problem?

And then it hit me: those ridiculous ads.

You’ve seen them. Lots of senior citizen males dashing off to pee in the middle of their golf game or sporting event. Avodart is the drug. The tagline: “You don’t have a going problem, you have a growing problem.”

The poor child was worried he had an enlarged prostate.

I did not, in fact, whoop with laughter. I kept a very serious face and said, “You mean like those ads on TV?”

He nodded.

“No, sweetie,” I said, my voice shaking only the teeniest amount, “That’s for grown-up men. You might just have an infection.”

I read him two books, tucked him into bed, and finally made it into another room where I could laugh uninterrupted.

God bless him, the silly goose. And what is up with TV these days that you can’t turn it on without some commercial for a product designed for the most intimate of conditions? Heaven only knows what these poor kids make of all the Viva Viagra! nonsense.

We went to the doctor, and MapKid was infection-free. As I suspected, he’s just made it a habit to get up half a dozen times to see what’s going on in the rest of the house. I’m thinking the advent of early-rising for school will solve this problem naturally.

And thank goodness, my seven-year-old is free from the medical issues plaguing senior men.

Growing problem. Hee.

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Has your kid ever misinterpreted a commercial about erectile disfunction or the like? Share your stories in the comments.