(I've been meaning to post this for some time now, but am just getting around to it.)
So I’ve been trying to get Josie to tell me when she has a “No. 2” in her diaper so we can move along her potty training readiness.
Today, I could smell the “bomb” she just dropped in her diaper, so I asked her: “Josie, did you make a poopie?”
She replied: “No.”
I asked her: “Then what’s that I smell?”
Josie said: “It’s the dog.”
Incident number 2: I smelled that brown monster again just now (in fact, it’s still in her diaper as I type) and I asked her: “Did you make a poopie?”
Josie said: “No.”
So I asked her again, “What’s that I smell?”
Josie replied: “Colette.” (Actually she says it phonetically: “Co-wette” like Elmer Fudd)
Unbelievable. I have a 2 year-old-pathological-potty-liar who is hysterically funny.
Love, The Mom of the mysterious pooper.
Today, I could smell the “bomb” she just dropped in her diaper, so I asked her: “Josie, did you make a poopie?”
She replied: “No.”
I asked her: “Then what’s that I smell?”
Josie said: “It’s the dog.”
Incident number 2: I smelled that brown monster again just now (in fact, it’s still in her diaper as I type) and I asked her: “Did you make a poopie?”
Josie said: “No.”
So I asked her again, “What’s that I smell?”
Josie replied: “Colette.” (Actually she says it phonetically: “Co-wette” like Elmer Fudd)
Unbelievable. I have a 2 year-old-pathological-potty-liar who is hysterically funny.
Love, The Mom of the mysterious pooper.
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