This morning Egg announced to all and sundry (which in our case was a tired Dada, an exhuasted Mama, and a milk-drunk reclining Ollie Dumpie) that nappies were for babies and that he was going to wear 'big boy pants'. This declaration had followed a muted conversation downstairs with Dada over breakfast, so I wasn't sure how much hope I should invest in this latest attempt to train Mr. Egg. Still, i'm desperate and so will grasp at whatever straws are going, so in that spirit I allowed Jay to fit Egg with some kitty-cat pants (courtesy of Grammitay ages ago) and prayed for the best. Ten minutes later as Jay slipped out the door to work, he offhandedly remarked that I'd better check the pants as he was sure there had been an accident. He wasn't wrong.
The washing machine now running with wet pants, I tried in vain to get Egg to discuss the 'accident' but he was nonplussed and aside from whipping his nappies down the stairs and refusing to get into them, he didn't - and doesn't - want to discuss this issue further at present.
So I have Dorothy the cleaning lady coming in half an hour, I have a toddler ensconced in his second pair of clean pants, and I'm asking him every five minutes if he needs to use the loo. He is tiring of my incessant queries and flustered, just told me to stop asking and 'do my computer!'. Well i've been told.
FOOTNOTE: We've just had another accident in the kitchen. We both watched solemnly as pee trickled down his leg onto the kitchen floor. Bacon looks on from the kitchen table with his matching pair of 'big boy underpants' that he's sporting (courtesy of Egg of course...they do everything together...including potty training it seems) and offers no comment. I realise now that Egg believes 'big boy pants' to offer the same service as nappies - only in a more sophisticated packaging.
We have a long way to go yet....many nasty surprises in store i fear....
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