Story #1: This morning I woke early with a need to poop so urgent that only a morbidly obese Scotsman portrayed by Mike Myers could truly empathize. Ten minutes later when I emerged from the master bathroom, my gaze was met by my one-year-old daughter Peanut. Our eyes locked for several seconds, and then she turned and sprinted down the hall to her dollhouse. Rooting around with tiny hands, Peanut quickly found the Daddy doll, seated him on the dollhouse toilet, and looked over her shoulder at me. I nodded, and she nodded back. Something profound had been communicated. I’m not sure what exactly. But I know that Peanut can say non-verbally what most people can’t say with 1,000 words. And that made me proud.
Story #2: That evening during tub time, Audie pulled the bath-toy basket off the wall and attached the suction cups to the soap dish and the side of the tub ….
Audie: Daddy, this is where the icky water gets collected.
Daddy: Okay. And what happens then?
Audie: It goes down this pipe and then into these pipes here and then up into this machine.
Daddy: Wow. What’s that called?
Audie: This is called the Poop Collector.
Daddy: Because … it collects poop?
Audie: Yeah.
Daddy: And then what happens?
Audie: It gets spit out into this dirty lake …
(Which is actually a great description of a modern waste water treatment facility; thank you, Richard Scarry.)
Daddy: And when does it become NOT poop?
Audie: Well, when it gets turned into a BOAT!
Daddy: Awesome! Does the boat have a poop deck?
Audie: Daddy, why do you not like squirrels in the house?