A couple evenings ago Charlotte was sitting on her potty as she likes to do and she asked me to join her. Sometimes she likes to chill on her potty with company and sometimes she likes to go solo. In fact she is really getting into the whole "going potty" thing... if you limit "going potty" to mean walking into the bathroom by yourself, closing the door until it latches, sitting on the potty for thirty seconds, and then crying for a parent to come let you out of the bathroom because you haven't figured out yet how to open the door.
So she has a lot of ostensible steps covered but is really missing those huge, all important, deeper steps of pulling your pants down and actually having some sort of substance evacuate your body.... and then knowing how to operate a basic door. She does enjoy hand washing, though, so at least we have that big step down.
Anyway, as I started out writing, a few nights ago she sat on her potty and asked me to join her. We look like two people sitting down to tea, as we just sit there on our respective seats looking at one another. So I sat on the toilet and she, on her potty, started talking to me. And the opening line was profound and deep.
Charlotte: Daddy sit down. Daddy go potty.
Me: Correct.
Charlotte: Correct. [Points to toilet paper roll next to me hanging from the wall]. That a napkin on the potty.
Me: Somewhat correct.
Charlotte: Somewhat correct.
And now I can't help but want to call toilet paper "potty napkins" all the time now. Fortunately for both me and my conversation parters, toilet paper does not really come up a lot in coversation.
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