The Poopy.

See where it says this blog is about the good, the bad, and the poopy.  Well, here comes the poopy.

It's just apart of a day as a daddy.  

So, night before last Turbo was pestering me all night, wanting me to give him gluten-free double-chocolate chip cookies.  He kept tossing a box of cookies at me as his way of asking me for cookies.

Then he relents and starts asking me.

"I want eat cookies," he said in his wispy, high pitched voice. 

No way, man, I think to myself.

In the past several days he pee-peed all over the dining room, living room, standing on an end table and peeing like a fountain all over the floor and later all over the coffee table after I took a long time cleaning the coffee table.

Oh, let's not forget taking the kitchen faucet and spraying water all over the floor with it.  It wasn't to clean up after himself, I assure you.  He loves to either rip up paper and "stim" with it.  However, when paper is not available water all over the place does just fine.  Yay!  (I'll spare you the photos and video -- for now.)

"I want eat cookie?"  I asked him.

"Yes," he replied enthusiastically. 

"I want cookie.  Pee pee in the potty.  I want cookie.  Poopy in the potty!  Two cookies." I say.

 We have had this conversation countless times.  I know he gets it.  I know he understands.  Yet, daily, it's a pee-fest for the most part. Topped off with a poo-pa-do finally.  We have had success here and there.  You know, a pee here and a pee there in the potty.  However, no poo in the potty.

(This is a point of contention with Merlin as he claims he saw Turbo go poo in the potty once not so long ago.  I'm the one who consistently picks up "la poopwa" off the floor, with paper du twa-lette of course, walks it over to the potty with Turbo in tow, to drop it in the la pot-wa, saying "poopy in the potty" on a daily basis.  Not him Merlin.  I'm pretty sure I would know if he pooed in the potty.)

Anyway, last night I take him into the bathroom.  Guess what--he peed in the potty!  One cookie for my main man.

Later on, he walks up to the bathroom all my himself.  And--pee pee in the potty!  Naw.  Can't be.  Yep.  Multiple confirmations from the other kiddos.  Okay, baby.

Can you feel it, people.  Oh yeah.  Here is what happened next.  I walk up stairs and Turbo is walking around outside the bathroom.  Just smiling ear to ear.  So, I walk into the bathroom.  Yep, tell-tale signs he was there.  Smudges of poo on the seat cover and seat.  Top is up.  I look down into the bowl.  No way.  Is it Turbo's? Naw.    I look back at Turbo.  He's smiling from ear to ear.  No, he's beaming.  Yes, there are smudges of brown on his shirt to confirm.  HE POOPIED ON THE POTTY!

"Yay!  You poopied in the potty!  Two cookies for you. Oh yeah, baby."

(Merlin chimes in, again pointing out this is the second time he did it.  No it isn't.  Yes it is.  Ug.  Do clean up and we'll talk.)

I help Turbo wash his hands.  He is demanding payment.  Now.  Okay.  He grabs the cookies.  I attempt to take his shirt off.  Nope.  Not going with it.  Up to the toilet I go for clean up.

It was a good night.

Here is the kicker.  Tonight--he walks into the bathroom.  Pees in the bathroom--all over the floor.  I walk in and attempt to get him to sit down.  He's not going for it.

"Don't let him out.  I know he has to poo," my wife says.

So, I block him from leaving.  I ask him to sit down again.  Nope.  Not doing it.  Instead, he strips, stands on the little step-stool in front of the pot, squats down and -- bombs away.

Well, he did poo and pee in the potty -- if you just adjust the definition of potty.

Such is the road of progress.

Dang.