Show-off

It took forever for Story to understand that she had to poop in the potty as well as pee. So, we made a BIG deal anytime she accidentally did it. We paraded it around the house; everyone who was there took a look and gave her a high five.

Three months later, she still feels the need to have a party every time she poops. She usually does it in the little training potty she has, and brings the removable bucket out to show us. She doesn't realize that her bowel movements are the smelliest I have ever seen. When I know she's about to go, I light candles everywhere.

Last night, I was in the bathroom with her when she pooped. She got up and showed me the good thing she'd done. "Good job, baby!" I said, holding out my fist for her to "pound it."

"Inna show Ivy." Okaaaayyy.

"Ivy! Come in here!" I yelled. She responded with something I couldn't hear from the living room. "IVY!!" I yelled louder. "Story wants you!"

"What?" She yelled.

"Story wants you!"

"Where?"

"In the bathroom!"

"Huh? I'm in the living room!"

"I know, Ivy!" I yelled louder. "Story wants you to come in the bathroom."

"Mommy! Where are you?"

"In the bathroom!"

"Why?"

"Story wants you!"

"Why?"

At this point I was so frustrated that I shouted, "Story wants you to come and see her poop!"

"What?"

"STORY WANTS YOU TO COME AND SEE HER POOOOOOOP!!!!!" I am sure the entire neighborhood heard me, plus the nearest 20 golfers.

Ivy appeared in the doorway. "Oh." She looked in the potty. "Nice poop, Story."

"Gimma five," Story said. They exchanged fives and I reached down to empty the bin in the toilet. "Noooo, Mommy! Inna show Daddy."

For her to show Daddy, I'd have to keep the stinkiness in the little potty for three hours until dark. (You might think Daddy's a vampire and needs to wait until full dark to wake up, but that's actually when the golf course closes). I was pretty sure I couldn't do that. The smell would permeate the entire house and then move to the outside, killing plants all along the 14th green.

"Okay, baby, go to the living room. We'll show him." She and Ivy happily danced to the living room where the Nick Jr. channel was blasting.

I grabbed the bin and flushed it quick, sprayed the entire bathroom and hallway with febreeze, and then ran before she realized what I have done. I went to the kitchen and said, "Anyone want some pop?" as a further means of distraction.