Enough haiku already, no?

It’s a little addicting, actually. Don’t be shocked if you see a little more of it. If I could have written more poetry that didn’t have to rhyme in school, I would have done much better in the poetry units.

So, it’s not haiku…but it IS poo. Yay!

This morning we went to a friend’s place for a playdate and, at one point, Primo and one of her kids were a little too quiet (and you know what I mean, parents) so my friend went to take a peek. She came out with a snicker and said “You might want to come take a look at this. It’s not really bad, but you need to have a peek!”

I turned the corner in to her spare room , in which she stores a variety of baby items left over from her twins that her newborn has yet to grow into, and there stood my boy, naked from the waist down, beside a Bumbo chair. Inside the Bumbo? A huge pile of shit.

Poor kid thought it was a potty.

Incidentally, he hasn’t used an actual potty in almost a year. He uses the toilet and wipes his own butt, so I have no idea what he was thinking. I burst out laughing and could see that he didn’t think it was very funny. I tried to fight the laughter, but it was pretty darn hard! He hopped up onto the toilet to finish and said “That’s not a potty?” I felt horrible for laughing at the situation and hope he doesn’t think I was laughing at him.

I think he’s over it, but it’s a story I’ll never forget.