Big news tonight.
While we were finishing dinner, laughing, and taking food to our mouths like we were machines, Gavin looked at me and said "Poopy"
Poopy? Now? Have you gone? Are you going? Hold it!
I think all those questions came out in one continuous sentence. Gavin, still getting his feet wet with this whole talking thing, just stared.
I simplified.
Do you have to go poopy?
He nodded.
So we rushed to the potty, I put him down, he held on and voila.
Poop there it is.
He'll be 2 in June. And he pretty consistently goes on the potty when we place him on there at the right time. Tonight was the first time he let us know the right time.
Boo-yaa.
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