The big toilet roars like a dragon
and gulps down whole afternoons.
I do not trust it.
But this one—
this little plastic throne the color of sherbet—
waits for me
like it knows my name.
Mama says I’m growing.
Daddy says I’m brave.
I say I am busy
building towers
and teaching Bear to read.
They say, “Do you have to go?”
I say, “No.”
Then I freeze
like a statue in the museum
we do not go to.
There is a whisper in my belly.
A wiggle in my knees.
A hurry-up feeling
that tickles and knocks
and will not be ignored.
I march to the bathroom
like a soldier
with very important business.
Step-stool.
Turn.
Sit.
The world waits.
I study the tiles.
I hold my breath.
I tell my knees to behave.
And then—
a tiny tinkle,
like rain testing the roof.
I did it.
Mama claps like I won a medal.
Daddy cheers like fireworks.
Bear looks impressed.
I grin so wide
my cheeks almost touch.
Flush? No dragon here.
Just a quiet swirl
and a sticker shaped like a star.
I am small,
but I am mighty.
Tomorrow I will build taller towers.
Tomorrow I will teach Bear to spell.
Today
I put
pee pee
in the potty.
-
Author:
Matthew R. Callies (
Offline) - Published: February 15th, 2026 12:05
- Comment from author about the poem: I was reminiscing about the days when my niece / goddaughter was being potty trained. That same girl just turned 21 yesterday, is engaged to be married and is expecting a child of her own. 😭
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 3
- Users favorite of this poem: Friendship
Offline)
Comments2
Proud, Uncle, and yet so beautifully written. Your poem focuses on the everyday experience of a child learning to use the toilet, portraying both the anxiety and excitement associated with this rite of passage. It contrasts the intimidating nature of the “big toilet” with the comfort of the “little plastic throne,” symbolizing the child's transition from dependency to independence.
One step at a time. The first toward the bowl the next on the step stool and then we are on our way to life and its eventual flush. Well written Matthew
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