Mulch, anyone?

Our newest phase of potty training: big boy underwear. With the excitement (and savings) of not going through as many diapers comes the fear of when, and where, Mikie may pee next. Since Mikie and I spend approximately 40 minutes in the car every morning and every night, I just keep praying that he can hold his bladder for more than the duration of our commute.

We returned home one evening, and no sooner did I turn around to put my purse down, than I see Mikie doing the pee-pee dance. You've all done it: knees turned inwards, ankles crossed, bobbing up and down, trying to will the urine to stay put. I asked Mikie if he had to use the potty. While he said "Yes", I quickly realized that Mikie's version of the pee-pee dance is clearly a post-pee-pee-celebratory dance. Like when you dance after scoring a touch down: he evidently dances after making a puddle on the carpet.

So, I rushed him to the potty, just in case there was more in there. Of course, there wasn't. So, I started to remove his urine stained clothes. As I took off his shoes, dirt came flying out, all over the bathroom floor. As if the puddle in the family room wasn't enough, I know get to vacuum the bathroom. I naively asked Mikie, "What did you do, roll in the dirt at school?" To which he responded with all seriousness, "I put woodchips in my shoes, Mom." Of course, how silly of me. Where else would you put woodchips, right? The child had enough woodchips in his shoes to mulch a flower bed. How he fit his feet in, I have no idea.

Love, The Trahans