Confession - A Shitty Week

Today at dinner, Maya (while polishing off her third taco) announces loudly, "I've gotta make a poop now!"


"Thanks for sharing," I say, putting my own taco back down on the plate.


"Daddy?" she shouts to Larry. "Did you know I haven't pooped since July?"


"Thanks for sharing, Maya," he says.


I'm pretty sure that isn't true since a) she can't read a calendar and b) I would remember not wiping her ass for four days. They would've been a happier four days. 


Now, I ask you this question.


When does a child learn to wipe his or her own butt????


I mean, come on, she's almost 5 1/2 years old. Isn't it time? It isn't like I haven't tried. 


Every time she blasts a dookie, she calls out loudly and in a sing-song voice that will surely send shivers down a snake's spine, "I need help, pleeeeeeeaaaaaaasssssseeeee!"


I think one of these times it may be her last. 


Every once in awhile I try to merely suggest that she may want to take care of her little problem on her own. She cries and begs and begs and cries and I give in because I really don't want her to start holding it in or having some sort of psychological/Freudian issues. 


I keep warning her that she will probably have to download a brownload at school but she assures me this will never happen. In all of preschool, she never once felt the need to grow a monkey tail. 


I explain that this may be different, since she will be at school for a longer day. Nope. Not happening. 


Can I make butt-wiping fun? Should I have a rewards chart up on the wall for cleaning up your own Hershey squirts?


And now I am even more anxious because, for the very first time, Lincoln bloop-blooped in the potty. 


It's been one of those weeks. Everywhere you turn, someone is forcing a duck to quack. 


So if you have any advice to offer, please fire away. 


Just don't fire any butt shuttles, thank you.