Toilet training can be dangerous!
by Angela Mitchell

I have this scar that is about an inch long and runs along the left side of my chin. Everyone always asks me, "How'd ya get that scar?" This is my (embarrassing) answer.

I was about three years old, and I was using the "big-girl potty." I was too short to get up onto the toilet without help, so I used a little brown plastic footstool to help me get on and off. While I was sitting there, doing my business, kicking my legs back and forth like little girls do, I kicked the footstool away from the base of the toilet. I had no way of getting down. My feet were nowhere near able to reach the floor.

Determined to "finish the job" without Mommy's help, I devised a plan to get off the toilet seat. I started rocking back and forth, trying to work up enough momentum to propel myself off the commode. Well, it worked, but not exactly as I'd planned. I rocked myself face first off the toilet and onto the linoleum-tiled bathroom floor. I heard a popping sound, and my chin started to sting like mad. I started crying, more from fear than from the pain. Mom came in and found me, bare-assed in the air with my chin smashed into the floor. She helped me up and looked at my war wound. I had a one-inch gash, where the skin had burst open from impact. It hardly bled, and I didn't have to get stitches. Mom told me the scar would fade. Little did she know I would still have it over twenty years later.

So that's the em-bar(e)-ass-ing story of my toilet-training experience! A word of advice to parents: if your kid needs a footstool to get up onto the potty, bolt that thing to the floor!

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