It's my Potty, and I'll poo where I want to. . .

Paul is in Sudden-Death potty training. Day Care has told us in no uncertain terms that Paul MUST be potty trained before the end of March. (I don't know what the "or else" could be, but I imagine it involves water boarding and multiple viewings of Breakin' 2: Electric Boogaloo.)

Anyway, they suggested that we send Paul to school in underpants, and with a few several changes of clothes, and we'll all go for broke. The first day he made all his pees in the potty, but had a poopsident (poop accident). The second day he made all his pees in the potty, and didn't poop at all. He came home, peed in his cow costume, threw an enormous tantrum when Mommy and Daddy couldn't instantly clean the costume, then peed his pants again.

This morning, we started out in underpants, peed twice on the potty, then despite being never more than 12 steps from the bathroom, pooped in his underpants, then duck-walked over to tell Mommy that the deed was done. *sigh* Pull-ups were called into play, but remained dry throughout the afternoon.

Part of today's activities involved the purchase of more underpants. Mommy chose some adorable Paul Frank monkey-pants, and Paul chose Cars and SpongeBob.

Cross your fingers. (And legs.)