Finny has gone at least pee-pee or poopy on the potty everyday now for the past week or so. The sticker chart is simply overflowing with his accomplishments.
Today he went pee-pee and poopy on the potty both before and after lunch. He likes for me to leave the room, as I suppose most of us prefer not to have an audience. I stand outside and listen carefully to what’s going on in there while he has the room to himself. Sometimes I have to walk in so that he does not decorate the bathroom in toilet paper or spread David’s deoderant all over his face, though this does leave him smelling fresh and manly.
Today, as I listened outside the door, I heard a little grunting and then… “I made it! I made it!”
As if he had just scuplted an ashtray in art class.
I peeked in and there it was. His proud little poopy glistening in its little white bucket.
“You pooped! Way to go, Finny!” I exclaimed with sincere enthusiasm. It was better than an ashtray.
“It’s a jellyfish!” Finny beamed.
I carried the little white bucket over to the toilet to dump it in so he could flush it down and as I did, he talked to it in a sweet, gentle voice, as if the poopy were, well, as if the poopy were his baby brother.
“Hi, Mr. Poopy. How are you, Mr. Poopy?” So endearing, so gentle, that I hurriedly scooped it into the toilet for fear he would try to give it a “gentle pat” on the head as he does to Charlie.
Then we ceremoniously flushed Mr. Poopy down the toilet and Finny, beaming with self-satisfaction, exclaimed, “Touchdown!”
And there you have it. Six points for Mr. Poopy. Three stickers for Finny. And one day closer to an extra thirty dollars of diaper money for Mommy.
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