Not too long ago, I thought I would never get Tornado E potty-trained. But now he goes, pulls up his pants, washes his hands, and returns to whatever he was doing without telling me. Sometimes I’ll walk in to the bathroom and notice the urine, wondering how long that was sitting in the potty, while the plastic soaked up the scent. Recently he has been caught trying to dump the urine on his own without any help what so ever. That’s not a good thing.
Since pooping is so new to us, Tornado E runs to tell me he’s done it as soon as his done. We do our little victory dance. We run back to the bathroom so that I can inspect and dumb the poop. As Tornado E washes his hands, I plop the poop into the toilet.
Tornado E insists he has to flush the toilet. He puts his left hand on the lever. He waves goodbye to his poop with his right. He says, “Goodbye, poop! Go be with your family!” Then he flushes.
If all the poop comes from the same place, then they must be family. If all the poop goes to the same place, it must be a family reunion. Right?