Potty training is the bane of my existence. I’m so tired of wiping poop out of tiny butt cracks and literally throwing all our disposable income away. I could do so much with the 40 bucks Beau craps on every month, my Pinterest is filling up with ideas that NEED funding. Seriously child, you’re sharting all over my dreams of turning this into a home improvement blog.
So today we took a little trip on down to Walmart town and Beau picked an Elmo potty and brand spanking new big boy panties. He picked Elmo and I’m hoping he gets excited to poop on that furry little monster and stops leaving me nasty butt presents. He also picked his awesome underwear. Why can I never find Buzz Lightyear in my size?! Ok, as I wrote that I realized how creepy it sounds, meh whatevs.
So we get home and unload all our stuff, Beau poops himself with excitement. So we change that diaper and talk about where poop is supposed to go (right there in front of Elmo’s smiling face). Then we pull out the big boy pants! I carefully explain to the child that his favorite characters from Monsters Inc. don’t want him to pee on their faces, it hurts their feelings. Everyone got that? So pee on Elmo, don’t pee on Sully. Clear. CLEAR?!!!
Well, not clear for Beau. He climbed inside the box the toilet came in and happily took a pretend rocket ship ride to the moon, crapping himself as he left earth’s atmosphere. It happens to even the most experienced astronauts I hear, except their mom’s don’t have to scoop it out of their tiny Disney underpants. Screw you potty training, and I’ll take this chance to apologize to Beau’s future life partner because it is possible he still will not know how to use a toilet.
|Elmo you creeper, why are you scuba diving in a toilet tank?!!|
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