We’ve been teaching The Boy to use the toilet and, while he does have a keen interest in doing so, his timing needs improvement. He usually tells me, urgently, “Daddy, me need to use potty,” much too late to be of any use. Much too late.

Tonight he informed me of the situation and I rushed him to the bathroom telling him to try and hold it. I felt like that first rebel pilot flying through the Death Star trench saying, “Just a few more seconds. Almost there.” You know, the one who missed the target and then blew up. That guy.

When we get to this stage, I take a peek down the boy’s diaper to assess the situation. There are three possibilities at this point.

1. No poop in the diaper. Miracle. Quickly, drop the drawers and put the boy on the toilet. Smile like an idiot. He then takes a moment to complain and he doesn't use the toilet. No matter how long he sits on the toilet he will not go. No, he'll wait until five minutes after I get him into a new diaper.
2. Sticky poop. Uh huh. Too messy to deal with. Kid, finish up and we'll do this the old fashioned way.
3. Solid poop. Here's where it can get tricky. The diaper can come down, carefully, and the poop in the diaper dropped into the toilet. Then the boy must be put onto the toilet so he can finish. This involves careful timing, obviously, because there is always another round in the chamber.

Tonight we had scenario #2. I turned him around and we went back to the living room. That’s when he assumes the poop position. He leans against the couch with his right forearm and rests his head on it. Then he finishes his business.

But I smile when I change his diaper. I take solace in the thought that, one day, his wife will read this story and tease him mercilessly about his poop.