Wednesday, May 11, 2005
Wake up and potty!!!
The following information is being told to you as it was reported to me. I was not actually there.
About two weeks ago while sitting at my desk at work in the morning, I received a phone call from my wife. This call was to inform me that junior had “pee-peed on the potty”. Now this would have been enough to be considered good news, but the events leading up to this momentous occasion make it hysterical.
Sometime after I had left for work in the morning, but prior to my wife waking up, junior decided it was time to take matters into his own hands. Groggily rolling over, trying to rub the sleep out of her eyes, Kristi sees this figure standing over her, holding something.
Realizing that this “figure” standing over her was actually her son, she snapped to attention when she finally recognized what it was that he was holding in his hands. Holding, with outstretched arms, the diaper that he had managed to escape from like a modern day Houdini, he was standing naked on the bed uttering the word “potty”.
More concerned with not getting peed on than with potty training at this point (and who can blame her) Kristi jumps out of bed, grabbing the boy under the arms, being careful to aim him away from her body, and bounds towards the bathroom.
She sets naked boy on the toilet with a sigh of relief that there was no unnecessary plant watering on the trip to the loo, and waits for him to do his business. Well, he grunts and groans and strains, and…….nothing happens. But he grabs the toilet paper, throws it in the toilet, turns around and flushes and then slides off of the seat.
Well no sooner had the Waterboy turned away from the toilet then he felt that this was now the appropriate time to let loose with all of the stored up liquids from within. Luckily, Mommy was still close by, so the bathroom rug only got a little saturated. She picked him up and put him in front of the toilet, his feet actually being supported by the bowl, and let’s just say that aim was not a prime directive here, but a lofty goal.
When all was said and done, the rug is damp, the bowl is splashed, and Mommy is frazzled (remember, this is how she was awoken) and Connor, with a big old grin, starts to clap, applauding himself at the accomplishment.
It was one of those days where I was actually glad I was at work. ¶ 9:14 AM
About two weeks ago while sitting at my desk at work in the morning, I received a phone call from my wife. This call was to inform me that junior had “pee-peed on the potty”. Now this would have been enough to be considered good news, but the events leading up to this momentous occasion make it hysterical.
Sometime after I had left for work in the morning, but prior to my wife waking up, junior decided it was time to take matters into his own hands. Groggily rolling over, trying to rub the sleep out of her eyes, Kristi sees this figure standing over her, holding something.
Realizing that this “figure” standing over her was actually her son, she snapped to attention when she finally recognized what it was that he was holding in his hands. Holding, with outstretched arms, the diaper that he had managed to escape from like a modern day Houdini, he was standing naked on the bed uttering the word “potty”.
More concerned with not getting peed on than with potty training at this point (and who can blame her) Kristi jumps out of bed, grabbing the boy under the arms, being careful to aim him away from her body, and bounds towards the bathroom.
She sets naked boy on the toilet with a sigh of relief that there was no unnecessary plant watering on the trip to the loo, and waits for him to do his business. Well, he grunts and groans and strains, and…….nothing happens. But he grabs the toilet paper, throws it in the toilet, turns around and flushes and then slides off of the seat.
Well no sooner had the Waterboy turned away from the toilet then he felt that this was now the appropriate time to let loose with all of the stored up liquids from within. Luckily, Mommy was still close by, so the bathroom rug only got a little saturated. She picked him up and put him in front of the toilet, his feet actually being supported by the bowl, and let’s just say that aim was not a prime directive here, but a lofty goal.
When all was said and done, the rug is damp, the bowl is splashed, and Mommy is frazzled (remember, this is how she was awoken) and Connor, with a big old grin, starts to clap, applauding himself at the accomplishment.
It was one of those days where I was actually glad I was at work. ¶ 9:14 AM
