Hosed

Last night my daughter decided to try Shane out on his new potty chair. She was asking me questions, and I answered the best I could, although I told her that I didn’t have any experience with potty training boys. So we took Shane to his Cars potty chair, sat him down and gave him his Cars book to keep him occupied and waited for nature to take it’s course. And we waited. And we turned on the faucet to help nature take it’s course. Still nothing. So I suggested we take a little toilet paper to pat him with and say “All done” and then try again later. Then, while my daughter was getting a diaper I noticed he went to his bench and was holding on to himself. Sure enough, nature was taking it’s course. SO we ran him back to his potty chair and as nature did it’s business we praised him and called him a “big boy”. My daughter got him up to empty his chair, still praising him. The pride was evident on his face, in fact, he was so proud of himself he decided to christen my daughter’s leg. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her jump so fast, or scream so loud. But I did my part to help, I stood against the door and laughed hysterically as she attempted to dodge my grandson, who had turned into a human sprinkling system. Good times.