Super Martian Robot Girl

Little-known fact*. Children who are potty-trained everywhere but in the house – meaning he will not require a diaper bag when we leave the house and will hold it or let you know when he needs to use the fo-cilities but will immediately use the absorbant power of his pampers once we get home – are easily bested. Simply refuse to put diapers on them. But…don’t put underwear on either. Anything that makes his bottom feel comfortably guarded induces accidents. So basically, my son goes commando when we’re at home. And it hasn’t failed me yet. BAM. It’s almost as satisfying as saving lives.

*Which only means I’d never heard of this little ace-in-the-hole.

Um. I no have more to say right now. So here’s what it looks like on my couch right now:

morrows play

Minus Josh’s hair; retain my shirt, switch Josh’s out for a black one; minus my sash; retain same laptops and … probably increase my degree of “bustedness”. I distinctly remember saying I wanted to leave the house today. Hm.


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