Potty humor isn’t my preferred style of humor. People often describe my writing as sarcastic, witty or dry. (Sometimes I refer to RJ as people.) Our granddaughter, who turned two on Friday, has forced me to embrace potty humor.
Yesterday after breakfast I took Eden upstairs to have a little chat while she sat on her potty chair pretending to potty while I…combed my hair. Our bathroom chats are an attempt to preempt her morning…elimination. When she was finished, she walked to the toilet, flushed it and clapped her hands.
“Nice try but I don’t want you to flush the toilet unless you actually go potty,” I said. <Breathe in—one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, and ten—breathe out.> “It wastes water.”
Eden hasn't gone potty anywhere besides her diaper but she looks for opportunistic moments—when the baby gates are down or we’re walking past the bathrooms—to make a break for the bathroom to flush the toilet.
She slowly sidles over to the toilet when I’m brushing my teeth or applying makeup. If I don’t keep her in my peripheral vision, her hand is on the handle in a flash. When I scold her for flushing the toilet again, she smiles prettily, claps and says, “Yeah!”
Four days ago Eden told Pop-pop, “I poo-pooed” and after he changed her diaper, she ran into the bathroom and flushed the toilet.
Three days ago Eden and I were going upstairs to change her diaper when she stuck her hand in the back of her diaper. She stared at her fingers and said “yucky.” We reviewed the incident during her diaper change.
“Poo is yucky, Eden. <In—one, two, three, four, five, six, seven...oh forget it.> That’s why you need to keep your hands out of your diaper.”
Eden nodded. “Yea, poo is yucky.”
“Right. That’s why we wash our hands. Poo is yucky.”
“Why?” Eden said.
Eden is proud to tell you she’s gone to the bathroom but still strongly committed to her diapers. During yesterdays potty chat, she said, “I poo-poo.” I moved her over a bit to see if I could celebrate the beginning of the end of diapers. She jumped up, ran to the toilet and performed her victory celebration.
I stared at the empty pot. <…one-hundred and one, one-hundred and two, one-hundred and three…>
Things aren’t going according to plan.* Eden hasn’t been trained to go potty—somehow we’ve trained her to obsessively flush the toilet. I’m not going to worry about it though. She probably wants to work for Kohler when she grows up.
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Missouri Court Appointed Special Advocates Association, American Horticultural Therapy Association, St. Jude Children's Research Hospital, National Jewish...