And Then I Stepped in Gum . . .

Joys of Parenthood, Redux

So y'all read my poop in the bathtub story, right? Well Saturday night was another bath night, but this time Dave was in charge. As the kids get older, bathtime gets easier (except for the part where you have to referee the fights between the two of them). We are not the kind of parents who subscribe to the hypervigilant philosophy that YOU MUST BE IN THE BATHROOM AT ALL TIMES IF YOUR CHILD IS ANYWHERE NEAR AN INCH OF WATER. In other words, we let our kids play in the bath while we're in the next room. They talk constantly; if they stopped, we'd run in to make sure they hadn't drowned.

Anyway, the scenario on Saturday was that Katie had emerged and was snuggled up on the couch with me, reading, and Dave was in the living room at the front of the house. He'd already ventured into the bathroom to catch Ian in the act of getting back into the tub after a foray out into the hall, naked and wet, and warned him that he wasn't to do that. From the bathroom we hear the call: "I-nan, poop!" Dave rushes around the corner, an apprehensive look on his face, and enters the bathroom, saying, "Did you--? Um, do you have to poop? Do you want to get out and poop on the potty?" He was confused, as there was no poop in the bathtub. "NO," insisted Ian, "I-nan, poop!" And he points. To the hallway. Where there is a little pile of poop, all by itself.

I couldn't help it. I started cracking up. Dave was incredulous and indignant. "Is that poop in the hallway?!?" Ian was stoic. "Yup," he replied with his old-time western inflection. "Did you get out of the tub and poop in the hallway?!?" Again, "Yup."

Fortunately, Dave did not go off on him and traumatize him for life with regard to bathroom matters. He actually handled it quite well. Methinks it's time to potty-train the boy.

posted by Jennifer Morgan, at 11:26 AM