You know the old clichés about men not wanting to ask for directions or read the instructions?

Until my mid-30’s, I was that guy.

I’d just as soon spend an entire day figuring out how to do something for the first time as I would spend 15 minutes getting help from someone who’d done it before.

It was as though figuring it out on my own gave me a badge of honor.

When my youngest boy, Sam, was about 3, he figured out how to wipe his own butt.

We lived in a house with white carpet at the time, and I’d put all the kids down for naps on Saturday afternoon. Sensing a rare opportunity, I’d stretched out for a little nap of my own.

I woke up to the sound of Sam playing in the living room, got up to see what he was doing, and quickly noticed that he didn’t have on a diaper.

Then, I noticed a brown spot on the floor.

“Daddy,” he smiled, “I pooped and wiped my butt!”

Then he pointed towards the powder room, which I cautiously approached.

Yep, he’d wiped his butt alright.

All over the toilet seat.

All over the bowl.

All over the floor.

Up sideways all over the sink (Don’t ask).

Then he walked upstairs and climbed into his brother’s bed, where the sheets had been stripped for washing and sat his “wiped” butt right down on the bare mattress.

After wallowing in his own filth, he came downstairs to play on the white carpet, that being where I found him with a big grin and the badge of honor.

Nowadays, I keep that story in mind when I’m trying something new, and I get as much advice and direction as I can from people who have done it before.

I think that’s a better way.

Otherwise, I’ve learned, shit can get sideways.