Lest my head inflate a bit over my amazing craft skills (ah-hem.), someone small who cannot pronounce his R's decided to potty train himself this week. As much as I would like to insert my fantastic mothering skills into this process, I had nothing to do with the entire deal. Except buying a one-pound bag of Skittles to encourage the Little Man.
Want to know what turned him away from those Huggies?
A lot of summertime fun outside...and a lot of dirt just asking to be peed on...
Before we knew it, we were recording this momentous event:
(By the way, someone asked me how I was able to blot out the Little Man's private-unless-he-has-to-go areas. I had to admit to them, I don't have the least idea how to blot out areas in a video. That was just the biggest smudge I could find on the window I filmed through.)
Real Gil took him to the store and even took a picture of him after he picked his Batman & McQueen underwear.
Convincing him to do it in the toilet took a little effort (and a lot of Skittles). Again, I would like to take full credit for this part but all the credit goes to my twin sister who encouraged the little boys with the important responsibility of "making bubbles in the toilet."
Between the opportunity to stand off our back porch and spray the dirt with urine, or the enticement of making bubbles in the toilet, it was a win-win situation.
And I humbly take no credit for the entire thing. But if you happen to be at a neighborhood playground with me, be forewarned. Better yet, warn your children. Because the Little Man loves Skittles, has bad aim, and no modesty. That's why I take no credit.
Resting in Him,