There is a certain karma surrounding me these days, and it seems to have a whole lot to do with poop.
For example, a friend sent me this not too long ago, and I smiled and shook my head while reading, thinking “there but for the grace of God go I.”
There was Henry and his poobacle (poop-debacle) last month.
And then recently, my husband was changing Henry’s diaper, and our little prodigy tried to wiggle off the changing table, saying “Potty, potty!”
So we put him on the little potty and cheered—and then cheered again when, holy sh*t, he pooped in the potty. At 19 months. Kind of like getting a hole in one the first time you play golf.
Fast forward to the other night, when he asked to sit on the potty again, and I obliged. And he pooped, but got up AT THE SAME TIME. And walked around the bathroom.
And subsequently learned to say, “Oh, no! Mess!”
P.S. Thank you so much for all the insight into your organizational lives. Keep those comments coming, please!