Tuesday, August 12, 2014

P.S. I have to update you on the whole potty training situation because I opened my big fat mouth and bragged that I could get Vivienne potty trained within seventy two hours about nine days ago. Anyway, today there was a certain amount of progress made. We both went into the powder room and we put our hands on the toilet seat. I am the biggest germaphobe of all, but . . . desperate times. Then we put our feet on the toilet seat. I got her to put her knee on the toilet seat, her wrist, and her elbow. When I asked her to put one cheek down, I did not expect her to put her little sideways leaning face on it, but she did. I meant the other kind of cheek, I told her. But she was not having it. You have not really cowered in the face of tiny person power until you find yourself begging a three year old to put one of her diapered butt cheeks on the toilet seat in order to get a Barbie doll. She is so committed to not potty training that she did not ever even try to take the Barbie doll out of the box. She named it Tinkerbell and carried on with her life. I even went so far as to show her how I pee. She told me that she thought my plain black underwear was hideous because it had no pink or sparkles on it. Fair enough. There is always tomorrow.

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