Issues With The Underwear, Part II

Seriously, I am so sorry, laundry issues ought not be on blogs, and yet, here we are.

Canon - now 3, is struggling with potty training. Well, no, he's not I am. Yesterday, *Baba Yaga snuck up and whispered, "Canon pooped on the floor."

"What?"

Much louder, and witchier, "CANON pooped on the floor!"

Sigh. "Where? Show me."

Baba Yaga flies to the living room and shows me a pile, revealing instantly what had happened to the bag of carrots.

Thank God for Lysol in a can.

I grabbed a paper towel, gingerly picked up the log, and handed it to my kid, "Poop goes in the potty, not on the floor. Go put this in the potty and flush it."

Bob knows I love Bounty paper towels, but they are no friend of the low flush toilet. So as I am trying to teach my kid how to flush, I have to emphasize NOT to plunge, mommy plunges, Canon no plunge. Toilet plungers are not toys.

Again, praises to Lysol. Though, I don't think they have lye in them, I think its alcohol - Alcosol? What's wrong with that for a name? Accuracy seems like a good thing.

So as we potty train, the less clothes to get in the way, the better. To cut to the chase, my 2 3 year old grabbed some of my underwear (that my husband so lovingly DUMPED all over the floor for me this morning) and was running around in it. Such a bizarre moment of absurdity, hearing myself declare: "CANON! Take off my underwear ...."

*a bizzare Christmas witch Crichton made at school and rediscovered when he cleaned out his desk.

Really cool art from Alex Tuis