Liquid Toy Box

As I've alluded to this post recently, twice, in fact, it's time for this post to flow.

Literally.

There are a few phrases when uttered by a 3 year-old that can only spell ginormous mess to clean up trouble.

One of them is, "Mom-E, I went pee-pee in my toy box."

"Como se WHAT?!?!?"

So the other day, Mom-E arranged a play date with Mrs. Kid-Nee and their 3 girls. You may remember that their oldest might be Big Brother's betrothed.

You may also remember that Little Brother has a penchant for de-pantsing himself, whether it be in public, or in the comforts of his own bedroom.

(I assure you, we're trying really hard to get him to keep his pants on when we have company, but sometimes it's an uphill battle.)

So Mom-E and Mrs. Kid-Nee were chatting when, very matter-of-factly, Little Brother approached them to casually announce his donation to his toybox.

Fortunately for Little Brother, the presence of guests helped him be the beneficiary of a much more muted frustration response from Mom-E (i.e., he lived, j/k).

Even worse was that Little brother had one of Kid-Nee's daughters open the toy box for him so he could do his business.

Even even worse was that the toy box is not perfectly sealed, such that it started to create a yellow ring around the perimeter.

And, to boot, when asked why he peed in his toy box, he replied, "I went into the bathroom, but I couldn't find the potty."

"Yeah right."

You mean you've lived in this house for 15 months, used that potty 1,000 times, and suddenly it just disappeared? The largest and most porcelain item in the bathroom?

Apparently we have a budding politician.

On the bright yellow side, we were able to thin out the contents of the toy box via File 13, and what was left got a nice bath in Lysol.

And apparently I should've revised my Commandments 11-15 for boys to lead off with "Thou shalt only pee in the potty, and nowhere else!"

Have a good week,
Wash your hands after you put them in the toy box,
Busy-Dad-E