The potty training is going poorly. I'd like to issue a correction to a previous post. In that post, I talked about what a wonderful job MaxieC had done to poop on the potty. Well, one thing I did not mention was that he had been in the bath tub at the time of his declaration of needing to poop, and me yanking him out of the tub and setting him on the potty immediately. Oh, and it was a bubble-bath.
The next morning, The Mrs. calls down the stairs, "I think you missed something in the tub." I go to investigate.
There, sitting quietly along the side of the tub, is a poop log. A Code Brownie.
So I guess he was really 1 for 7 that day.
That remains his best day thus far. Monday and today he has had a zero success rate. Zero. The kid won't even sit on the potty for me. His mother can get him on for a little while, but he never does any bidness.
I am thinking it may be too soon. We shall see.
In other news, The Mrs. decided to take a bunches of MaxieC's old toys to the used toy store in order to make room for the new stuff for Christmas. She started collecting it last night, and MaxieC caught on to her pretty quickly and started hollering. Somehow, she assuaged his fears at the time.
This morning, she went off to the used toy store for like two hours (apparently, everyone in Fort TomCollins had the same idea, and they all saw the same weather forecast that said we'd have a blizzard for the next two days and decided to got there this morning). I got stuck making crepes for breakfast because of how long she was gone and on account of the fact she had promised crepes to HannahC.
Not that I'm objecting to making breakfast, mind you. I'll make breakfast with no objection. I object to crepes. Now, those of you who follow along probably figure this is because they're French, and I hate everything French just because it's French. Except French Canadians. I hate them because they're Canadians.
But I digress.
I hate crepes mainly because you can only cook one at a time, they take about 3 minutes each, and a meal is 5 of them. And with 3.5 people, you're looking at an hour (including mixing time). This is just a remarkably time-inefficient breakfast. Which is just fine for those French F'ks, cuz they have nothing to contribute to the world with their time other than sitting around making inefficient meals and, maybe, poking fun at the British and Spanish. I, on the other hand, had a brand new issue of America's First Freedom to read.
Anyways, in the middle of all this crepe cooking, The Mrs. came home. She was holding two puzzles in her hand, and I said, "Hey, don't we already have those?" She said, "Yeah - they didn't want these."
This is all MaxieC needed to hear. He started wailing, gnashing his teeth, and all that, about how he didn't want his toys to sold to the used toy store. He wanted them back. They were his. Kvetch, kvetch, kvetch.
So, The Mrs. applied time-tested logic.
She gave him the Rescue Rangers she had picked up at the store for him for Christmas.