So, while I was toiling away at work on Saturday, Bryan took Zoey up to Puyallup for the day, so he could (again) get some work done on our house. Zoey spent a very exciting day with her Grandma Heather and Grandpa Alex, chasing the wild bunny that lives on their property and inching her way up to the "scawy" (scary) rooster in his pen. When they got home Saturday night, Bryan told me the following story:
Apparently, on the ride up, after maybe an hour in the car, Zoey announced "poo-poo, Dada!". Bryan asked her if she needed to go poo-poo, to which she responded "yes!". (I can practically see Bryan's truck skittering off the freeway in Centralia, high-tailing it to the nearest McDonalds in an attempt to make it to a potty in time. Not that she was in big-girl panties, mind you, it's just that we're still in the early stages of potty training, when it's novel and exciting to drop everything you're doing to help your little one shit in the toilet and not in her pants.)
So, they pull in to McDonalds and get out of the truck, and Bryan checks Zoey's diaper--no poo-poo! They HAD made it in time! So they rush inside to the bathroom, get the pants and the diaper off, and Bryan proceeds with the quad-killing exercise of squatting down while hovering 32 pounds of toddler over a public toilet.
Zoey proceeded to fart three times and declare herself "all done!".
I seriously thought I was going to wet MY pants laughing when he told me this.
"Sooo, you stopped in Centralia so Zoey could fart three times in a McDonalds restroom?" I asked.
"Um, yes."
Good work, Daddy!
2 comments:
You realize that one day she will kill you if she ever finds these blogs, right? That aside, it's hilarious!
i would say something funny but i'm too busy laughing. :)
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