The Bleeding Ahem

As anyone who has been reading either of my blogs for a while knows, we've been potty training. Well, Sunshine has been potty training (the rest of us have been PT for a long time!)

He likes me to sit with him in the bathroom as I wait for the happy dripping and tinkly sound, so I spend a lot of time looking at his ahem. (Yes, I know perfectly well it's appropriate name and for the record, we call it appropriate name in our home. But to avoid attracting a whole new readership of weirdos, for today's purposes it will be his ahem.)

And he has an adorable ahem! It's in its natural state (would YOU send your 3 year old in for that surgery??) and like every other part of him, it is cute.

Anyway, today while sitting on the floor staring at the ahem and waiting for it to do its thing, I noticed it looked a little raw around the edges. Well, I thought to myself, maybe it's getting a little chapped hanging out in those damp-all-the-time unders. I asked him if it was owie. No. He wasn't complaining about it or about using it, so I forgot about it.

Fast forward to after dinner. I am once again spending time in the bathroom with him. As I'm pulling down his pants, I see a clot of bright red blood in his unders, right where the ahem would rub.

I look at the poor ahem and it too is covered in little globs of bright red. I scream for Mr. GT to come quickly and look.

He comes running and I explain how poor Sunshine is bleeding. Sunshine has no comment and seems to be enjoying all the hullaballoo.

I carry him, pants half-mast, to the other bathroom where there is better light. Mr. GT looks a little squeamish. Not having an ahem myself and not feeling the least bit squeamish, I get my face right down there for a good look.

Sure enough, there is blood rimming the tip. But where is it coming from? Mr. GT looks worried and about to faint (remember the tonsilectomy?).

I grab the box of wipes and start to gently clean it off. Sunshine is now getting into the spirit and starts wailing, "OWWWWW!"

I take a closer look at the wipe.

WHAT????!

Why does it look so.........textile-ish?

"Look at this!" I shove the wipe in Mr. GT's face.

Suddenly it dawns on me. The child is wearing brand new took-the-tag-off-this-morning red sweatpants.

He's bleeding red fuzz!

Of course they couldn't have been blue or green sweatpants. It would have all been obvious so much sooner!

I'm just glad his little ahem is ok!

Laugh away.