for parents only

Disclaimer: This blog post is not for the faint of heart and is intended for and will only be appreciated by parents.

Andy is in the process of potty training. But with boys, I suppose, it’s not an overnight transition. (If only it were. I’m so sick of wiping that little hind end.) Part of the experience is his self-awareness. Meaning, "Oh, I have poop in my pants. I stink and I’d better go harass Mommy so she’ll change me." Another part of the experience is the recognition that what goes in, must come out. I guess I’ve grumbled enough times about a post-blueberry poop that he’s starting to realize that what he ate at his last meal will show up shortly before the next one.

So of course the other day he refused to poop on the potty. Fine. I can accept it. He’s not quite ready; it’ll happen when it happens. I laid him on the floor and stripped him down. As I took off the diaper I must have made a face, because he said, "Is it a blueberry poop, Mommy?"

"No, son."

"Is it a strawberry poop, Mommy?"

"No, son."

"Is it a taco poop, Mommy?"

"No, son."

Silence.

Then, "Well, what kind of poop is it, Mommy?!?"