Wednesday, February 28, 2007

Puppy Pie in a Poopy Potty

Oh, yes, the title gives it all away. What toddler drama we had.

It began while I was scrubbing away the bath crayon residue from the last bath in preparation for the imminent next bath. Puppy Pie usually sleeps with Z. on her day-care cot at nap time but on Monday she staged a swift rescue mission to the nap room and since then he has been home for R & R. Z. was holding him in one elbow and The Camel in the other, supervising the bath preparations. She announced her need for the potty. Lo and behold, a rare success, poop in the potty. Poop flushed, tushy wiped, potty wiped, I decided to get Z. into the bath before getting out the toilet brush for the potty bowl. In our house, the toilet brush is a temptation best kept on the very very fringes of toddler attention. This was a miscalculation. The bath was not yet run, and this gave Z. a window in which to decide Puppy Pie needed the potty.

Mama was having a cranky day. Mama is having pre-Z.'s birthday labor flashbacks, as you might guess from other entries, and Mama had PMS (Mama now has cramps). Mama shouted. Mama snatched Puppy Pie while Z. was still shifting from admiration for Puppy Pie on the potty to stoicism in the face of a shouting Mama. Z. requested Puppy Pie's return: "Puppy Pie?" Mama, gripping Puppy Pie firmly by the head and ears only, holding him a safe distance from all human and canine bodies in the vicinity, explained why this was not going to happen. Z.'s stoicism dissolved into bereft, red-faced, bawling, hiccuping tears when she found out Puppy Pie was going to the washing machine. The kind of tears you expect from a kid on the first day of day care. "Puh-uh-uhp-Puh-Pup-pyyy Paaaiiiiieee!" Mommy left the dishes to see what the ruckus was about. Puppy Pie was escorted to the washing machine by the entire Rhyming family. Z. pleaded for clemency as the door was closed. Her arms were outstretched. Tears did not abate, even with references to Knuffle Bunny. She sat in my lap and watched the washer fill and I pretended to see Puppy Pie in the suds a couple of times. Once in the bath, she forgot all about it.

This morning Puppy Pie's emergence from the dryer was heralded by all. (Okay, Mommy was already at work, but we know she would have heralded it with us if she'd been there.) When asked whether she wanted to bring Puppy Pie back to day care, Z. opined that Puppy Pie should "stay athome."

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