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Friday Night

Friday 5:26pm: 

I arrive home from work and glance through my front window. Nothing is in the same place it was when I left 9 hours earlier. Although I don’t see anyone moving it would be hard to pick them out amongst the explosion of toys, blankets an clothes. We’ve either been robbed or it’s begun… Adlai has ditched the nappies. Potty training has begun.


I tentatively walk through the front door. The smell of poo and wee stings my nostrils in a more powerful way than normal and I know the day may not have gone according to plan. I hear the patter of a running two year old and my naked son welcomes me home. He enthusiastically leads me to the garden. I stop briefly to assess the damage of the ground floor.


We arrive in the garden where I find a baby and an attractive lady who I instantly recognise as my youngest son and my wife. Adlai points at a potty and tells me how he wee’s in it now. In an attempt to encourage this activity we are awarding star stickers, You get one for a wee and two for a poo. Adlai has taken to putting these stickers on the potty itself, which reminds me of how football teams have stars above their badges for the number of world cups they’ve won.


I get a live example of how Adlai can wee in a potty now. Most of it ends up in the correct place and suitable celebrations ensue. Then it’s time for the sticker ceremony which, for reasons we won’t go into, should only commence once the potty is emptied.

I now say ‘do you need to wee’ several thousand times a day and help put stickers on damp potties – and that’s my life.

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