We have a potty fairy!
Now, you guys know that I was worried about the whole cleaning-the-potty thing. I was originally hoping to get Owl using a regular toilet all the time and totally skip the plastic potty because I didn’t see the value of having to clean a potty vs having to clean a child’s bum. It’s still cleaning up poop.
Not that I’m unfamiliar with poop.
In fact, the other day at work when a client handed me his dog’s poop sample, and his nine year old daughter recoiled in disgust, I brought it up to my nose and dramatically inhaled its bouquet, just for the fun of making her gag in horror
But since the whole benefit of potty training is supposed to be a reduction in your daily poop quota, cleaning soft, squishy poop off the bottom of a plastic cup didn’t really entice me.
I ended up laying some toilet paper in the bottom of the cup, so that when I dump the potty into the toilet, the whole thing comes off leaving the remained relatively clean and in need of a minimal wipe.
That works pretty well.
But we may have an even easier solution:
The Potty Fairy.
I was staggering with exhaustion when I went to bed last night – bowed down by a long day at work, followed by a dog training session, not to mention many late nights of NaNoWriMo over the past couple of weeks.
I noticed a puddle of yellow pee in the potty, which PH must have forgotten to empty before putting Owl to bed. I intended to empty it, but by the time I passed that way again, I had forgotten.
When I came down in the morning, though, the cup was empty and clean, so I figured PH must have emptied it before leaving for work.
I only found out later that he had seen the empty potty and assumed that I cleaned it before bed last night.
Shortly after, Owl peed in the potty. We did a potty dance, I gave him a sticker, and he demanded his breakfast, so I took him into the kitchen and fed him.
When he was finished, I went to empty the potty. Except that the yellow first-pee-of-the-morning contents had entirely disappeared.
Like, it was bone dry.
That’s right, something had magically cleaned the potty for me while I was getting Owl his breakfast.
When I went into work that morning, I asked my boss if she had ever heard of a dog drinking urine.
“Because I think my dog might have drunk Owl’s pee this morning.”
Beloved Dog has never shied away from eating most things organic. He will eat our cat litter if we give him half a chance, but he has never been interested in eating dog poop, and I’ve certainly never seen him try to drink urine.
Maybe we just had a magical fairy who was cleaning the potty for me.
Or maybe I was so tired from NaNoWriMo that I was cleaning the potty and then forgetting all about it.
This evening, after dinner, Owl announced that he had to poop on the potty and with much effort and facial contortions, produced a fat brown sausage of impressive proportions.
“Yay! You pooped on the potty!” This was only the second at-home poop since the Sunday Of Many Poops, so it was a big, big deal. “Look at the size of that poop! High five, buddy!”
PH came running into the room to join the celebration. “Whoa, and WHAT A POOP,” he said, glancing at the potty. This poop was the father of all poops. It left no doubt whatsoever that Owl had definitely defecated in the correct place. I had been able to correctly identify its presence from across the room.
“TANDY!” Owl squealed, and ran into the kitchen. I followed to finish wiping his bottom and to offer him a range of deluxe stickers in celebration of the occasion.
Only a moment later, I heard a rattle in the living room.
“LEAVE IT!” I bellowed, leaping into the hall. Beloved Dog scuttled away from the potty guiltily. I ran to the potty and…
The long brown sausage was gone.
Only a couple of minor brown smudges remained, and a forlorn piece of toilet paper.
OH MY GOD.
“ON YOUR SPOT!” I ordered Beloved Dog to his bed. He wasn’t even licking his chops. No signs of the poop anywhere. Somehow he had swallowed that entire thing whole in a matter of mere seconds.
“IT’S GONE, LOVE, IT’S JUST GONE!” I said with a touch of hysteria.
“HE ATE THE WHOLE THING!”
“OKAY, BUT WE NEED TO STOP SHOUTING!”
“Doggy eat my food?” Owl asked worriedly, following us into the living room. We turned and put on big smiles.
“No, no, honey,” I said hurriedly, “EVERYTHING IS FINE. Mommy is just going to go flush your… er… poop now…” I carried the potty upstairs and dumped the piece of toilet paper. Some part of me hoped that the poop would reappear like a magic trick, but it was definitely, unquestionably, eaten.
Does anyone want to buy a dog? You’ll never have to clean a potty ever again.
…But you might not want to let him lick your face.
…And if you were disgusted by this, I think you should share it. It’s like the ring. The only way to get it out of your head is to expose others to it.