Right before we left for Boozetown, Colorado, Elijah started making pretty huge leaps in terms of potty training. It basically comes down to Baby Economics. His desire to acquire stickers eclipses any and all desire to urinate or defecate on our floor. When Diana went into the bathroom the other day Eli announced that she would, in fact, receive a sticker when she was done.
After several hundred trips to the potty with Di’s mom while we were on vacation, Diana decided to reward him with a trip to the store to buy underpants.
Hold on a minute. I just realized Eli doesn’t go on the potty when I’m around. He just lets it fly in his pants. Is he modest around his old man? We have the same equipment, for crying out loud. Maybe it’s because I shout, “Don’t miss or I’ll spank you!”
Anyhoo, Di bought Eli a hundred pairs of tiny underpants featuring every cartoon character and Sesame Street character on the planet.
When I took him up to bed last night I discovered said cornucopia of undergarments in a hamper and got maybe a little too excited. Eli immediately removed his diapers and started trying on undies.
One by one he’d yank them on and say, “Help! Help, Dada!” when they got bunched up around his butt.
And then, get this, he’d walk over to Diana’s mirror and check himself out. The hilarious little guy would then turn around, look over his shoulder AND CHECK OUT HIS BUTT.
After sixty or so pairs I scooped him up and said, “That’s enough, Fabio.” And put the little fashionista to bed.
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