Standing in the bathroom getting ready for work, I felt a tug on my clothes. It was my darling child. "Potty! Potty!" he called, and then sat on his little potty. I got really excited. He was fully clothed so I undressed him and sad him on his little throne and waited.....and then I waited some more. Nothing happened! He stood and started playing with the tassels on the towels so I turned back to my task of getting ready. A moment later I looked back to see Connor pooping. Not on the potty. No, that would be too easy. He was pooping in the floor, still blissfully playing with the towels as though nothing extraordinary was happening.
I shrieked a little. I couldn't help it. I quickly put him in the shower to keep him from stepping in the offending piles and set to work cleaning up the mess.
When I started the day I didn't really expect to be cleaning poop off my bathroom floor, but I guess parenthood requires adaptability. I just wish THESE parts of parenthood were less squishy.
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