About a month back, we decided that it might be a good idea to start Jesse at a playschool in 2007. This, as ideas go, is fine except for one small little niggle - our boy is not toilet trained.
"I'm taking off his diaper," Mae proclaimed authoritatively. There was this look of sheer determination and rebellion printed on her face, much like those Che Guevara t-shirts you see at Petaling Street. That look meant I should shut up.
Needless to say, this is all very alien to Jesse. And so, we have had our fair share of minor accidents all over the house, as well as the Mother-In-Law's. Me, being me, I found it all very amusing; but let me tell you that finding poop all over your expensive Persian rug is no laughing matter. *ahem*
We try to schedule the boy's fecal activities but alas, that's as easy as predicting the next lightning strike. Put him on the pottie, and Mr. Poopie is no-show. Take him off and, well, you know the story. For some reason, taking a dump in a receptacle was just too weird for the boy.
Then, yesterday, for no reason at all the boy decided, "Ahh, what the heck," and let it all out into the pottie!!! There was cheering and clapping and high-fives throughout the land. Jesse is finally getting the hang of it. With any luck, he'll be good and ready come 2007!