Today at Quinn's 3-year-old well child visit, the doctor asked how he was doing with potty training.
"We're working on it," I said. "It's mostly just a matter of us taking a few days and really going at it."
"I'll talk to him about it," the doctor said.
The appointment continued and when the doctor had Quinn take off his pants, he said, "Oh, Quinn, I see you're wearing diapers. All the three-year-olds I know wear underpants and go pee and poop in the potty." Then he went on to tell Quinn how he had to send the doctor all of his diapers so the doctor could give them to the babies because Quinn didn't need them anymore because Quinn isn't a baby.
So my hand has been forced. My laziness has been upset. My half-assed/drawn-out potty training days are over.
Total items for today: 12 diapers
I told Quinn that Dr. Datch would be coming by to pick them up off the porch. When did all the rampant lying begin?
Also, while the doctor was examining Jack, Quinn pooped the biggest, smelliest poop possible. (In his diaper, of course.) This may not go well.
Anyone use size 6 Huggies?