I teach my kids potty words. There I said it. Awhile back we had an extra long wait to get Ethan's hair cut. He had crunched through three suckers, scribbled on all the paper in my purse and was becoming more rambunctious by the second. I started whispering secrets in his ear and this kept him on my lap. As you can imagine, your run of the mill secrets got old pretty fast. But the "potty secrets"...now those were a completely different story. Golden nuggets like, "Superman wears pink panties" and "Spiderman goes poopy in his pants" seemed to cast some sort of hilarious tranquilizing spell on him. He would cackle and slap his hand on his knee and then cozy his face up to mine and ask for another. Kept him busy for 20 minutes until his hair cut and I left feeling pretty proud of myself. And no one ever had to know. Until today. Ethan's 61 year old preschool teacher came over for a home visit. At the end of their session she picked him up and he said, "Rita I tell you a secret." We all know little boys can't whisper, so from across the room I heard, "Rita, mommy went poopy in her pants."
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