"Mommy, I poopy," says Little J.
"NO! I'm poopy!" adds L. Apparently the kids have created a "only-one-child-defecates-at-a-time rule," which I am all for, by the way.
"NO! I'M POOOOOOO-py!" Caps added for emphasis and volume.
"NOOOOOOOO! I'M POOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOPY!!!" I'm confident we could have gone on this way, forever. Arguing the merits of your diaper is heavy stuff for a 2 and 4 year old. Yes, I said 4-year-old. Give me a break, she's fed through a tube and that messes with her a little bit. Okay, not much...but it helps me sleep at night when I realize I have a 4-year-old who is not potty trained. My plan is to ignore this task until summer, at which time we will live at the pool and just pretend she has miraculously mastered this task, while she continues to pee in the water like every other toddler in swim diapers (because those things are worthless). We'll just pray she doesn't poop between June and September.
And while we're having a moment of full disclosure here (and by we, I mean me)...that 2-year-old turns three in a couple of months, which means this is prime potty-training time for that one as well. No G-tube either AND he's home with me all morning by himself--hence, no excuses, except that I can think of about a ga-gillion things I'd rather do. Like decorate the house for Valentines Day. Or re-read the Twilight series. Or scrub the bathtub with my tongue. That's how much I hate potty training. Hate it, hate it, hate it.
"Stop. You're both poopy." Confirmed, not so much by sight, but definitely by odor.
This is a game where everyone is a winner. Except me, apparently...eternal changer of the smelly diapers.