In Pman's world, all colors are blue, all numbers are two and every dog's name is Abby.
However, we are on the cusp of the threshold of something I've heard is very complicated.
He will tell me when he has to poop or that he just pooped, it's a toss-up really whether the declaration comes before or after the actual act. He will pat the -to be pooped in or already pooped in portion of his diaper enthusiastically as he informs me of the goings on in there.
Recently, he has taken to brushing his teeth, post bath, in the nude. Before this new development he would allow me to wrap a towel around him in an attempt to contain any errant Pman trickles while he brushes.
This is no longer acceptable to him. In the words of some of my guy friends in high school, Pman like to free ball it.
A few nights ago as P handed me his toothbrush, signaling he was done with the brushing business for the evening, he raced into the hall. This portion of our house overlooks the down stairs foyer. I usually use this feature of my house as a great way to drop things from the top floor to the bottom floor and vice versa, so that I do have to carry them- all- the- way- downstairs.
Well, Pman went over to the railing and tried to pee in between the rungs into the downstairs foyer. His aim is not quite what it could be, or rather it is not what he was hoping it would be. Instead of an arching stream, it was more of a trickle and puddle.
He looked at me. Pointed to his little puddle and said, "I PEEE!"
I'm taking this all to mean he is gearing up for potty training. My parents got him a potty as an early birthday present. So far he sat on it for 15 minutes while we read books. Nothing happened, so I put his diaper back on and he pooped. Like right away.
And then this happened: