Potty Lies

The confluence of three things leads to this story.

As you know, Mommy is a very regimented person, and when you were a baby, she would feed you like clockwork, with the set times noted in her spreadsheet never deviating by more than a minute, day by day, month by month.  As a result, your potty times were also very punctual.  Milk in.  40 minute brew time.  Pee out.

We started teaching you sign-language when you were 6 months old.  Clueless new parents that we were, we read somewhere that infants could use sign language to communicate before their vocal chords developed enough to speak.  So, we made hand gestures over and over and over and over for a month while you sat there staring at us as if we were crazy.  A month later however, you realized that you could make a hand gesture for milk or water, and Mommy and Daddy around scramble to get you what you wanted.  You learned many signed words very quickly after that.

You’re very particular about how you feel and how you dress.  You never liked diapers, and you never liked being wet.  Because you were very regular, we were able to put you on the toilet a few minutes before you had to go.  Since you were learning sign language anyway, we kept signing potty whenever we did so.  We didn’t think anything of it until one day, you stopped playing and signed potty.  You’ve been potty trained since 8 months old.

[Side note to future Cookie and to any parents who may be reading: contrary to what this sounds like, this is NOT a good thing.  Sure, we saved a bundle on diapers, but infant bladders are tiny.  Couple the limited liquid capacity with the novelty of being able to make Mommy and Daddy drop everything for a trip to the bathroom, and you’ll be carrying the baby to the bathroom every 20 minutes.  Simply staying home is tiring, to say nothing of going outside.  You don’t understand the number of times we wanted to tell you to just pee in your diaper like a normal baby.]

That’s a long background to this: one night, when you were 9 months old, we picked you up from your field of toys in the living room, went through the night time rituals, and put you to bed.

As soon as you were in your crib, however, you signed “potty.”

As soon as your butt touched the toilet, however, you signed, “all done.”

Nothing had came out.

“All done.”  “Play.”

You couldn’t even speak yet when you told your first lie.

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