...and I aint in it.
Playette is on the pot. BD says that we don't have any pull-ups downstairs so he's going up to get some. I keep an eye on Playette.
Moments later, he returns. In his hands are one pull-up and one teensy purple panty.
He offer Playette the choice of what she would like to wear.
I give him a look kinda like this:
You know what she chose.
This is totally his deal.
Sure, we've talked about trying this again at some point. But this evening?
Part of me is laughing inside. Because he's so confident.
Another part of me hopes that he truly is the Potty Whisperer and he wraps this whole toileting thing up before bedtime.
That would be awesome.
My husband, he's a pretty sharp guy. Anything's possible.
If he solves this age old dilemma in 4 hours, trust me, I'll be posting his fee and taking appointments.