How does one begin to write intelligently about potty training?
This is how I was hoping our story would read:
Once upon a time there was a boy in diapers. One morning, he became a big boy and started using the toilet. The End.
We’re gradually figuring this potty thing out. We’re farther ahead then we were last week. In the meantime, we have washed a lot of underwear and cleaned up a few spills, the most notable a half-full cupholder in Jason’s truck. It was a miniature wishing well, with stray coins in the bottom of a pool of liquid. Last night, I was about to walk out the door to my Bible Study, when a splashing drip from Owen’s chair at the table caught my eye. “Going potty!” he proclaimed. A large puddle formed quickly as Jason and I could only stand, blankly staring. Jason finally threw a kitchen towel down and went to start bathwater. I leaned in and left a huge lipstick smack in the middle of Owen’s forehead, then bolted. Bye-bye!