The Poop Nazi
Now that Miss A is fully potty trained I’m embracing the diaper free days/Pull Up nights and I generally let her do her bathroom business on her own. I’ll usually check in on her to make sure she’s washing her hands and not just faking me out by turning on the cold water and splashing for two seconds, but on the whole I’m a hands-off parent when it comes to the wipeage, unless it’s a full throttle poop.
Of course there are moments like the other night at the pizza parlor when she waddled out of the game room with her underwear and pants down around her ankles and announced to the entire restaurant, “I GO POTTY!” and I ran over, swooped her up, and we sprinted to the ladies room before she christened the floor.
This laissez faire bathroom supervision was all well and good until last week when I realized why we were going through toilet paper at an alarming rate. Miss A was stopping up the toilet every time she had a bowel movement and then it dawned on me. Apparently she saw no problem with using up to a half a roll of toilet paper when using the restroom at home. They must really ration it at daycare or something. Next thing I know she’ll be hording it under her bed and I’ll be shouting:
Any way, we had a little talk (more like “INTERVENTION!”) and I gave a demonstration of the proper amount of toilet paper to use, lest we completely clog up our sewer line and end up spending her college fund on calling in a plumber.
There’s no sense in our diaper savings going down the toilet. Literally.
