Kathryn's eyes were wide. It was early summer and Kathryn's eyes were wide with knowledge. We were sitting in a river in Texas, a slow, lazy river, cooling our heels when Kathryn, who was a few months short of three years old at the time, said she needed to go to the bathroom.
There were people around, just a few, so I got way up close to Kathryn and asked in a whisper which number she needed to make. "Pee-pee," she said back, and so I told her a secret. I told her that sometimes, only sometimes, when you are sitting in a river, a slow, lazy river, and the camp bathroom, the bug-infested bathroom, is very far away, and Daddy's beer, his cold, cold beer, is already opened, then it is okay for a young lady to stay in the river to make a pee-pee. And that's when Kathryn's eyes grew wide.
"Really?" she asked. I nodded and her eyes grew even wider.
Then she thought about it some more and asked, "In my bathing suit?" and I said yes and her eyes grew wider still.
She looked at my face hard with those eyes, looking for a sign I was pulling her leg, and when she saw none, her wide eyes finally squeezed shut as she steeled herself and pushed an enormous turd out of her behind and into her bathing suit.
Apparently two years old is too young to bite the apple from that particular tree of knowledge.