My Idea of Progress

At six a.m. I'm standing at the kitchen sink washing last nights pots and pans.  The water is running and I hear the toilet seat slam.  The pitter patter of his fat flat feet slapping against the parquet floor.  And then the crash of legos. 

Sigh...The Boy is up.

I finish washing the dishes and pour my cup of coffee, though I suspect it will be cold by the time I return to it.  

I walk down the hall and look into the bathroom, the stepstool is in front of the toilet.  That's strange, I think.  

The Boy is in his room, playing with his legos and instantly I notice his diaper is off.  (because the least of my concerns is night time potty training.)  But his pj shorts are on.  

"Good morning...did you poop?"  I ask.  

"Noooo."

"Are you sure?"

"Noooo.  Yes!"

I shake my head and peak in the back of his pants.  Lucky me!  I get a morning surprise.  I take The Boy by the hand and take him into the bathroom.  I notice The Boy:

• discarded his diaper (as in put it in the garbage can);
• pooped in the toilet; and
• put his shorts back on (the right way).  

So what if he didn't flush.  So what if he didn't wash his hands.  And so what if he didn't wipe. 

He'll get all those extra steps...eventually.

THIS, my friends, is what I call progress!  And The Boy got a "nice try" and a high five!  Then I gave him a bath and threw away his poopy shorts.  (Maybe I would have rinsed them had I finished my coffee...nah, probably not.) 

I admit, this isn't my ideal morning but it couldn't have been a whole lot worse.  And by the time I got to drink my coffee, it was still sort of warm.     

What's your idea of progress?