Tuesday, May 5, 2009

One day

One day you will be so mad at me for posting this story.

One day I will share this story, albeit short, with your very future husband.

One day you will do this in public, or anywhere outside of our house, for that matter.

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Let me preface the story:

  • we've been working hard on potty training- at home
  • Ri just won't 'go' in public- not even at friends houses- argh!
  • she's about to go through boot camp soon- i am sooo done w/ dipes
  • we have a basket-type-thingie in the downstairs bath and our bathroom w/ magazines- you know, for reading

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So- today:

We get home from gymnastics and Target and Ri says to me:

"I need to go poopy Mom."

So I turned the light on for her and she does the rest: drops her drawers, scoots her little self up onto the big potty, sits and waits. Oh- and yells: "Mommy-shut the door. I need privacy."

A minute or so later I hear her call for me.

She says- as serious as I've ever seen her.

"I need a magazine"

Seriously? Yes.

I handed her the first magazine on the top of the stack: Sports Illustrated. She holds it in her hands, stares at the cover, and demands I leave her alone and shut the door.

Yes ma'am.

Well- like father, like daughter. A little bathroom readin' was all she needed to take care of some serious business.

I'm thinking I need to take a stack of magazines with us when we hit the road from now on. What do you think?

And- ONE DAY you will thank me for NOT posting the picture I took of you 'reading' on the camode on my cell phone, which I promptly texted to your daddy. You will, one day.

Until next time...

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