Last night after dinner, Junior was racing around the living room when he suddenly announced, "I need to use the potty!"
Chuck scooped him up and plopped him down on his special chair. I thought, holy moly, this is it: the end of diapers. Chuck and I waited patiently as Junior looked around the kitchen.
"Junior? Are you—"
"—I NEED A BOOK! I NEED A BOOK!"
Yep, Dad's been doing potty time. One Dune book at a time.
About me: I'm 42 and added another gherkin to our pickle party of a family. My husband Chuck, our 9-year-old Junior, our 6-year-old Everett, our toddler and I live in a town in Connecticut I affectionately call Mulletville Lite (aka my childhood hometown). My friends call me Nutjob, and they're right. In my husband's spare time he dresses up as a Viking and chases ghosts (and I'm the nutjob?). When I'm not busy working as a graphic designer, I lie in a ball in the corner.