We thought it might be time for Heidi to make the acquaintance of the “little potty.” Sure she’s a little young. But then again, it’s not like were introducing her to the concept of mortality. We’re simply asking her to consider sitting in one place long enough so that she can empty her bladder into a container of sorts, instead of leaking all over the tile floors like a faulty radiator.

The potty will be Heidi’s, and Heidi’s alone, which as you can see has hit Whitney like the death of a pet. Cry all she like, we’re not letting our potty-competent-three-year-old poop in anything requiring us to come face to face with feces.

Ben and I view bringing a new potty into our home as a step towards eliminating, if not reducing, the amount of crap we contend with EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. Permitting Whitney to use a small potty, without attached plumbing, would jam one big stick into the spokes, of the wheel, we call our sanity.