Just when I was about to give up trying, K said to me one morning in the car when I picked him up from school.

K         –    "I p.s in school today."

Mum  –    "Are you sure?"

K        –    "I have a stomachache so I got to p.s in the school's toilet. I am big boy already, no need diaper."

I could almost hear the tune of Handel's Messiah ringing in my head, the one with the The Hallelujah Chorus.

This was a pleasant change from the conversation we had last week in the car on the way to school.

K      –     "I have a stomachache."

Mum     –    "Oh dear, can you make sure you use the toilet to p.s later when u are in school?"

K      –     "No, I can hold. I will wait till I come home."

Mum    –     "If you have to p.s., you really need to go. Your stomach will feel very uncomfortable if you don't go."

K      –      "No need toilet, I can wait later."

Not that he has issues doing his dump in public toilets, it is worse than that. Ever since he has been trained to be off diapers, he has been having some issues with sitting on the toilet to p.m. No amount of convincing, "Only babies use diapers to p.m," or a discourse on what happens to soiled diapers of big boys, "It is so much better that you flush it down into the toilet, your poo will not be adding to the stench in rubbish trucks and then create big mountains of diapers of poo." (the need to explain about the concept of landfills did not seem too advantageous at that point in time). It even became desperate at one point, "Oh no, you are like the only one in class that still poo in your diapers, I should tell your friends." (I know, it is not wise to threaten, but I was feeling at a loss to what to do). There was also an attempt to bribe, "You can have the 100 Stories DVDs if you can p.m. in the toilet."

Being forced by circumstance to make a choice at that moment seemed to have worked out relatively well. And it may be about to get even better for K. Dh has promised him a pet if he quits his habit of using the diaper to p.m. I am still hoping K will be distracted by something else and forgets about this.

I guess it is time to share with him how smelly and squeaky those little furballs can get.

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This common adage of 'like father, like son'; has proven itself to be so true when I look at K and dh. Maybe it is that glint of admiration in K's eyes, whenever they spend time together. I see him closely observing his dad, imitating his every move.

He knows he has the license to snack when his dad opens a pack of potato chips or caramel corn. And would proudly exclaim to our helper, "I am sharing chips with my daddy." He loves sitting next to dad and wants his own PS3 control when the latter is playing golf, giving customary high fives to one another when they score a 'hole-in-one' and then pumping his fist in the air, together with a resounding 'Yes' (times like these I wonder what he will be doing when he turns 5).

Many times I find myself nudging dh, reminding him always to be that good role model for K (especially when it comes to his snacking habits).

There's this other thing they have in common; their interest in motorcycles. Dh owned a couple of motorcycles in his youth and I remembered enjoying the experience as a pillion rider   Somehow K picked up this interest along the way, and all dh did was to be that indulgent dad who got him a set of motorcycle toys. So far K shows no sign that he is sick of this interest and I find myself having to constantly entertain K's questions of, "Is there one or two exhausts?" or "Is that a road bike or a chopper?", whenever we see motorcycles on the road.

I am letting him enjoy his obsession for now and hopefully gets it out of his system, and will move on to other things when he finally reaches the age when he can obtain a motorcycle/car license.

For now, he's content with riding the battery-operated three-wheeler motorcycle whenever we visit T3 for dinner.

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