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One Leg at a Time

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Man, my cup of parental pride just runneth over.

Last night, after returning from swimming, we put Benjamin in a long shirt, almost a night-shirt, and we had not yet bothered to put pants on him. No biggie, he’s mostly got the toilet training down, typically announcing his intention to pee and then running off to do his business, usually in the bathroom, though sometimes outside, firing a stream off the front-steps, off the porch, etc. He still wears a diaper while sleeping.

As it got close to bedtime, we started to turn down the lights, to lower the volume on the TV, all that stuff that begins the transition into “quiet-time”, etc. The kids were alone in the bedroom for a few minutes watching TV.

Before Annie or I got a chance to go back inside and get everybody off to bed, Benjamin emerged from the room to show us that he had sourced a new diaper from the shelf and had put it on all by himself.

Holy smokes! 2 years, 4 months?

That’s my boy!

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