Port-a-Potty

Dear Cole,

We were at soccer practice last week and I was sitting in the car staying warm. You rushed up to the door and in a very urgent and frantic voice said, "Mom, I have to go poop. I have to go poop and pee now." And you were doing the poop pee dance. I said, "ok, let's go over to the port-a-potty over there (pointing to the unit at the end of the field)." Instaneously, the urge to go to the bathroom subsided. You said very calmly and confident, "That's ok, I don't have to go anymore."

You pinched your cheeks the whole practice - it looked like agony and, honestly, I'm surprised but thankful that you didn't pee your pants. About 15 minutes left in practice, I couldn't take it anymore. I swooped you up and carried you to the portapotty. You said, "I'm not going in. Can I just pee by it? I don't want to go in." In the end you did end up going pee in the unit but there wasn't anyway you were going to sit on the seat to do number 2. You held onto that poo until we got in the car and then I thought you might (for real) poop your pants in my car.

Daddy always jokes that when people are speeding, it's because they have to take a poop. So, when we saw me haulin ass down our street, he told the neighbor - someone must have a code brown. So true darling. So true!

We made it....barely.

I love you monkey. You make me laugh!

Hugs,

Mommy