This post is now a week+ old, but what's time, eh?
Oh my. Can't keep up with the laundry with this potty-training reality. If you are at all squeamish, please read no further. It is funny. However, yesterday I found myself with my son accidentally knocking the once out of reach most disgusting cat food can from its perch - all over the porch, rocks, etc. Yellow jackets everywhere, the dog pawing the rocks to get more of that glop, batting the yellow jackets with her paw or snapping her teeth. So I hose everything down and attempt to clean the mess.
Then, dog poops in the front yard. Off to get something with which to get rid of that poo, into the Herald bag and to the garbage. Meanwhile, OLIVER has pooped on the grass, so more Herald bags.
And then it was Ro and Oliver both failing to either get the message or make any move to align the pee with a potty in our house, both in the space of 10 minutes. It's comical!
Went to buy more tidy whities for O. and everything seemed to need to have some sort of sport ball motif around the waistband (cac!) or the wrong size. Back to the laundry room...
Dad shows up later in the day with about 18 pair of new plain vanilla undies. Who says chivalry is dead?
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