Okay, so ten minutes ago Victor climbed up on the end table and was sent to his room for a time out. (The end table is out of bounds for all climbing, car driving, and ball bouncing.)
When I went into his room to release him, he was in the hall. When he saw me, he knew he was in trouble.
So he resorted to his old get-out-of-jail-free card. "I have to go potty!" He insisted.
I thought he was bluffing.
"Okay. Go ahead and go," I said. And I walked away to change the baby.
Wouldn't you know, he went in, put his little seat on the toilet, took off his shorts and diaper, and went #1 and #2 in the toilet.
(I have long suspected that my presence in the bathroom inhibited production, but I wasn't willing to clean up all the wet mess everywhere.)
Victor received ample praise and the sticker and treat he asked for. He seemed pleased.
Are we starting potty training again? NO.
But it is encouraging to know he has the skills.
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