My Son the Poopsmith

As the boys were about to settle in tonight, my three year old made the announcement that he had to poop. So I see him going to work in the bathroom.  Getting his seat added to the toilet and then his eyes dart back and forth.  At that time, I hear him utter the word, "dang."  Off he goes to grab his step-stool from his 1 month old brother's room.

So as he got situated finally on the potty, he issues a question to me and my wife from the bathroom.  "Hey guys, do you want to know the best part of going to the bathroom that I love the best?"  At first, I had no idea what he was saying, nor did my wife.  So we asked him to please repeat that.  Sure enough, he said just what I had finally put together.  Of course, my wife and I oblige the youngster with a obligatory "what?"  His response, "pooping!"

In case you were wondering, the original Poopsmith

This was about as sincere and as heart felt as he gets.  He just loves pooping.  My boy would then go on to give his own running commentary of what was occurring in the most solemn of places.  Why, he even gave a nice "splash!" sound effect for good measure at the moment of triumph.

Oh, but the proud moments do not stop there.  Not only that, but when it was time for me to help wipe him, he quickly darts back to the toilet to view his masterpiece.  "One chunk!" he echoed to me.  Now, he quickly darted to the toilet because sometimes I wipe him and then drop the tissue into the toilet, directly over his Picasso.  Usually, that elicits an angry exchange from him.  But tonight he could go to sleep proud.  He knew that his favorite part of the day had not been sullied by an unforgivable fatherly mistake.  Kudos to my young poopsmith, kudos.

My Son the Poopsmith