No one told me that one of the joys of parenting during potty training would entail visions of Spalding snorkling in the pool as a Baby Ruth floats towards him. This must be the 3rd or 4th time my daughter has been nice enough to poop in the tub and the exclaim "Poop!" with glee.
Fast forward an hour and I'm chasing a cat around the living room after I hear the dreaded precursor to puking sound and he begins to spray bits as he runs.
I'm not sure, but I don't think life gets more glamorous than this.
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