Imagine ten minutes ago, the terror in my mind as I hear the toilet flushing. The hubs is in bed, so he can go leave for work at 8 pm. I rush to see what has taken the great white waterslide to its sewery demise, never to be seen again. I follow the trail of toothpaste, contact lens packets, and child flossers. I take a deep breath and look into the porcelain throne.
NOTHING.
I take a mental inventory of what likely occupied the packages. It all looks the same. I ask the little one if he can show me what he flushed. He looks back at me confused. His expression almost says, "What is supposed to be flushed?"
I go back in the living room. I separate myself from the ticker tape of thoughts going through my head. Baby J climbs on my lap and asks to cuddle a few minutes later. I ask him if his pants are wet, because he is due for a diaper change.
"Nope." He replies.
"Are your pants wet?" I ask.
"Nope. I went on the toilet."
"You went on the toilet?" I ask flabbergasted.
"Yep. I went in the big, white toilet. I said buh-bye to my potties."
My jaw drops. That explains the toilet flush. What a relief! He didn't flush my contacts or his dinner. And he is trying!
Now we just have to work on removing the underwear before going.
:)
He's a big boy now--boo hoo to growing up, yahoo because if he must grow up, which he must it's nice that you won't be changing his diapers for much longer
ReplyDelete