You ARE to potty-train me, Mother

Both battleground and spoils of war

Thursday 23 Feb.

Mini Minx upped the ante in our running Battle of the Potty.

While getting the minxes ready for bed, either me or The Boss (usually him) takes off her nappy and lets her play with Maxi and Midi’s old pink potty whilst brushing 3 sets of toddler teeth, washing hands, faces, botties, etc.

Tonight she insistently asserted, “Poo! Poo!”

No chance, my little love, you’ve filled 3 big stinky reeking nappies today. So I took my eyes off her for a few mins to sort out brushing her sisters’ teeth.

“Poo!”

“Yeah, clever girl.”

“Poo!”

“Uh-huh, Mummy with you in a minute.”

“POOO!”

“Yep, good girl.”

“Mama! Poo!!” So I looked round from carefully scrubbing around Maxi’s latest loose tooth.

“Holy crap!” I exclaimed (yes, that was a pun, and yes, I am a potty-mouth myself), as Mini leapt into the air, startled. “You’ve done a poo! In the potty! Wow!” so me and Mini’s sisters erupted in some mental, loud, over-exuberant applause. Oh right, I noted to myself, and you’ve also pooed on the floor. And have now stepped in it and are dragging it all round the bathroom and over the entire pile of clothes – yaaaargh! Then she proceeded to proudly stick her finger into her vulva and pee on the floor, spraying it everywhere. Maxi and Midi giggled, I whipped her onto the potty, reassuring her she was the cleverest girl in the world, whilst inwardly wailing at the mess. She kept saying, “Wee-wee! Wee-wee!” so I shouldn’t have been surprised when she then peed in the potty as an encore.

Guess who’s a smug toddler? 23 months old today. It’s my move, now. I am afraid. Very afraid.

One thought on “You ARE to potty-train me, Mother

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