Let me set the scene for you:
Tonight was spaghetti night. For my son, the only thing better than that would be if I served it to him with chocolate milk and raisins (I have a weird kid). Most of you can relate this euphoria to pizza night. The kid is excited.
And now he is covered in spaghetti. He has learned that on spaghetti night, he usually gets a bath or a shower immediately following dinner because, well, he looks like the spaghetti monster when he is done. So he says, upon chewing his last bite, "Momma...shower!"
So off we go to the shower.
Now several months back when we were first starting to mess with Sam and potty training, he started to pee in the shower and I didn't bat an eye. Maybe it is just me, but I know kids pee in the bath tub all the time and just don't say anything about it and since he is a boy and can pretty well hit the drain, I just decided to pick my battles on this (in this case, I'll be picking this battle at an older age). So if you think I'm gross, fine, but he has learned that it is okay to pee in the shower (for boys anyway).
Another fun game we play in the shower is that we sing. Our favorite song to sing is the song that goes, "But you gotta keep your head up, whoa-oh, so you can let your hair down, eh-eh." If I can ever get this on video it might be the most precious thing you've ever seen. He really gets into the "whoa-oh" and the "eh-eh".
Here is the video if my description was lackluster:
The other day we were singing it and we called Daddy in so he could hear it. Sam really likes to perform for us.
Back to last night: We are singing our song and Sam starts to yell for Daddy.
And then he farted.
This caught me off guard. So I turned to look at him mid yell and he has "the poop face."
If you know my son, you've seen it. It is THE FACE that explains everything below the belly button.
And my face went all Maude.
I said, "Are you pooping?" Really hoping that the shadows in the shower were all wrong.
Mid grunt he says, "Momma. Poo poo. Shower."
OH GAWD.
I started yelling, "NO SAM! NO! WE DON'T POO POO IN THE SHOWER! NO!"
Plop.
Poop. In my shower.
I then start yelling, "NO SAM! STOP! DON'T MOVE! DO. NOT. STEP. ANYWHERE!"
He freezes and has the most puzzled look on his face. And I guess I could understand. You pee and poo in the toilet, if you can pee in the shower it only stands to reason that you can poop too.... URG!
I then start yelling frantically for Daddy again. And rinsing the shampoo out of my hair while urging my son to not move an inch, because quite frankly, if he does, I will be cleaning little poop foot prints from all around the shower/bathroom.
I get Justin in there and get him to lay a towel down so Sam can get to the toilet without falling down. He does. Then he hands me some toilet paper to pick up the turds.
Then he leaves! I think his exact words were, "Well here is this. I'm gonna go."
Turds. I'm surrounded by both literal and figurative turds.
I explain to Sam that poo poo goes in the potty. He response to me?
"Oh."
Once we got the great turd fiasco of 2012 handled, we got back in the shower to finish. Sam then wanted to sing Jesus Loves Me.
I can't tell you how awesome it is to hear my son talk about Jesus. He is 2 and he asks to pray to Jesus, and sing Jesus loves me, etc. I love it.
When he sings Jesus Loves Me though, at the end, this is what he sings:
Je-sus lubs Sam.
Yes, Jesus lubs Sam.
Ta bib-le tells me toe.
Melt. My. Heart.
