Oh, Yeah, Like You've Never Been Thrown Out of a Bar

Leta’s new favorite book is called Once Upon a Potty (thanks, Abby and Jenny) about a little girl named Prudence who has “a bottom for sitting and in it a little hole for making Poo-Poo.” Let’s be honest: this is my favorite book, too.

The book is supposed to help kids understand the concept of a potty, and Prudence walks around half-naked for most of the book once bending over and showing the reading public her little Poo-Poo hole. Leta loves turning to that page because she gets to point right at the hole and say, “Poo-Poo!” The only thing that makes me prouder than my daughter saying Poo-Poo is the fact that I can hear in her voice that she’s capitalizing it in her head. Like it should be.

We had planned on introducing her to this book once we got closer to that magical moment in every person’s life when pooping in the pants is no longer dignified. ...

Something tells me that we’re not very close to Leta’s potty-training age. Could be that she regularly walks head-first into the dining room table, and I just don’t see us saying, “Have to go to the bathroom? Go ahead, and on your way there try not to impale yourself on the doorknob.” Plus, I’m just not ready for her to grow out of the routine she’s got going, the one where she sits with her legs straight out in a 15 degree angle off the floor and joyfully says, “Hi!” over and over again as she fills her diaper.

That's what I do, too! And I giggle and giggle and giggle until the squishy goodness loses its appeal. Then, I pass out.

Friends say, that's usually when the bar owners give me the heave-ho, but that part, I never recall.