The wrong stuff

Samson is home from school today with a wicked diaper rash. He's going through some kind of Omerta phase about letting us know when he's pooped --- which is no big deal when we're home but really causes trouble when we've spent the day outside.

In order to speed the healing process, Vicki thought it made sense to let him go sans culottes this morning.

But we stressed that if he felt the need to go to the bathroom, he should let us know. To make things even easier, we put the potty in his bedroom, just a few feet away from his train table.

And it worked. Mostly. All morning, he'd announce "I have to pee!" and then go sit on his potty. He'd then announce "I peed!" and proceed on his merry way.

That was before I left for work. At about 9, just as I was pulling into the lot at my office, I got a call on my cell from Vicki. She was in the bathroom brushing her teeth when she heard the following from Samson, who was playing in his room: "It looks like a banana!!!"

I'll let her tell the rest of the story...