I guess we have a potty-trained almost-two-year-old? Mostly? Does that count? Who cares; I’ll take a no-accident trip to the zoo as a sign of sufficient victory.
“William, don’t yell at Jesus. He’ll put his shoes back on when he’s ready.”
We’re potty training William, and he is currently studying the potty episode of Daniel Tiger with the intensity usually reserved for a grad student trying to comprehend Michel Foucault.
William: “Dad I need money!” Me: “Why?” W: “For…for…for the man!” Me: “What man?” W: “Dadadadad I need money!” I think my son might be in deep with some bad people…