One night, I was putzing on the web, checking out all the new yarns on KnitPicks, surfing my favorite blogs, laughing aloud at this one and in general, just wasting time. I had drawn a bath for Audrey upstairs and was just letting her play [I know many of you would poo poo that idea, no pun intended]. I decided to go back upstairs and check on her. I walk into the bathroom and peer into the bathtub and gasp.
In the last month or so, Audrey has finally got the hang of going tinkle and poo poo on the toilet, like a big girl [Can I get an amen, hallelujah, praise the Lord Almighty in heaven!?!] As I look into the tub, with toys floating about, I see little brown flecks on the bottom of the tub. No big deal; maybe just some dirt, debris, something-or-other. Then my eyes scan about and discover something peculiar: there is a pile of poop strategically deposited in the cabin of a little play boat where little pirates normally lay their heads.
I try not to laugh. I try to maintain composure because, after all, it is not ideal for my daughter to be crappin’ in the bathtub, right? But at the same time, isn’t it awfully creative of her to choose this route of pooping? This was a tricky parenting scenario to navigate. In the end I said this to Audrey: “This, my love, is why I keep a blog.” I scooped up the poop, which was conveniently in the dug out part of the boat, and plopped in neatly into the toilet.
And then I said this: “Audrey, you know how we pause your shows on TV. Well, we can “pause” your bath and let you jump out if you have to go poo poo and then put you right back in once you are done. I think she understood that concept.
I keep giggling about it still.
Tonight when she spied me uploading the pictures you are about to see, she confessed that she scooped the poop up with the washcloth. All along I thought she had crouched down over the boat, aiming strategically, which would have been quite funny.
Oh, the joys of raising three year olds.
Enjoy the pics!
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I thought you would enjoy those.