Potty Parlance

I spent the better part of the afternoon at the library with the kids. They love it there. Although I was interested in the goings-on at the Yukon Sourdough Rendezvous, the blustery winds and driving snow made the library the more sensible choice for the day.

Halia, now two years old is, joyfully, potty-trained and has been for a while now. While we were at the library, she told me she had to "Go poo! Go poo!"

In our library, sound carries, so her cries of "Go poo!" could be heard by all. The concept of speaking quietly in a library is not one that has registered with Halia.

I rushed her to the washroom where she went pee. I asked her if she still had to poo and she informed me that she did not. Just in case she did have to go, I kept her on the toilet and spent the next ten minutes trying to keep her from grabbing everything you wouldn't want a child to touch in the washroom wonderland. She didn't go poo, but at least she went pee.

About five minutes later, she declared, "Go poo! Go poo!"

I asked her, "Do you really need to go poo?" People were smirking as I asked. It's hard to read a book when someone is talking about poo. All eyes were on us as the patrons waited for her response.

Halia informed me that she had to go, so off we went to the bathroom again. I got her up on the toilet.

"Are you going to go poo?" I asked.

She informed me that she didn't have to go. But then told me that she did. But then told me that she didn't. Over and over again.

It was all very confusing. After about three minutes of this, she firmly declared that she didn't need to go. I spent the next ten minutes trying to wash her hands and keep her from grabbing everything you wouldn't want a child to touch in the washroom wonderland - because that's exactly what it seemed like, a magical place full of things that are forbidden! So tempting! So worth lying to your father that you need to go poo for, just to see it all!

I was less than impressed.

Five minutes later, she again declared that she needed to go poo.

"Go poo! Go poo!"

"Do you really need to go poo?" I asked, more than a little frustrated, "Or do you just want to play in the washroom?" By now, more people were interested in the ongoing poo saga then they were in their own library affairs.

"Play!" she declared.

"No," I responded. "Do you need to go poo?" I asked again, just in case.

"No," she said.

"Halia, do you need to poo?" I asked, again. One can never be too certain.

"Yes," she said.

"You need to poo?" I asked.

"No," she said.

Finally, she gave me two affirmative answers in a row (majority rules), so we went.

I got her all ready and she sat there on the toilet seat. I held her so she wouldn't slip back into the toilet bowl.

"Are you going to go poo?" I asked.

"No."

"You had better go poo," I said, trying not to grit my teeth. I was tired of these bathroom shenanigans. "Are you going to go poo?"

"Yes."

"Caterpillar!" she cried.

"Caterpillar?" I asked.

And then it started.

"Big poo!" she declared, "Caterpillar! Caterpillar!"

"Caterpillar?" I asked.

Caterpillar poo!"

And sure enough, she was right. There in the toilet bowl was something that looked just like a giant caterpillar.

Though I'm pretty certain that's not where butterflies come from.

I am, however, pretty certain that "Do you need to make some caterpillars?" is going to become part of the family vernacular.

"Caterpillars!" is a much nicer thing to shout in a public library.