Reed: I have to pee!

We rush to the toilet. Pants down…

Me: Okay. Hold your penis, Reed.

Reed: You hold it.

Me: No, you hold it.

Reed (Defiant): _You_ hold it.

Me: Why don’t you want to hold it?

Reed: Because I don’t want to wash my hands.

Me (ORLY?): When I pee, I hold my own penis. Now, you’re the one peeing — Why would I hold your penis?

Reed: Because then you don’t have to clean up.

Me (ORLY x Infinity!): I can tell you now: If you pee everywhere, _you’ll_ be the one cleaning up. Not me.

It’s officially a stand-off.

We both stare at each other. My hands in the air, his hands on his hips. Anxious seconds pass then…

Reed catches his penis before the pee arrives.

We both laugh.

Reed’s laughing because he thinks it’s funny. I’m laughing because I won. I won, I won, I won!

This was my Cuban Missile Crisis and, for a brief moment, I was a Kennedy.