Clara is attempting to potty train me. No, thank you very much, I, myself, am potty-trained. She is teaching me to potty train HER! I know she is only 21 months and, no, I am NOT ready for this. I repeat - I AM NOT READY! I am content changing diapers. I am content with not having to put her on those nasty public toilets. I am content with not knowing where every toilet is in a twenty foot radius. I am content with being able to be stuck in a traffic jam without having to worry about an accident INSIDE the car. I am content with dry sheets every morning.
Since Clara was six months old and crawling around the house, she has followed me into the bathroom. I have not had privacy in quite a while. Apparently, when it comes to me, the bathroom has an open door policy. Only Adam gets his privacy.
She has tinkled on the potty several times this month. But, last night and again this morning we had "part deux" (if you know what I mean). I guess I should start looking for tiny, little underwear and stocking up on laundry detergent.
By the way, Clara will be getting a new toilet seat under the Christmas tree.
She has tinkled on the potty several times this month. But, last night and again this morning we had "part deux" (if you know what I mean). I guess I should start looking for tiny, little underwear and stocking up on laundry detergent.
By the way, Clara will be getting a new toilet seat under the Christmas tree.
