While I was sending Peter a message about how Adam locked us in his bedroom this morning, Ellen made a mess with toilet bowl cleaner in the bathroom. While I was cleaning that up, she ripped up a book. While I was gluing the book back together, she took off her diaper and wet her bedroom floor. My tip-off to that one was her running past, naked, to the garbage, holding a wad of wipes.
Me: What's that?
Ellen: A cloffcloff.
Me: What were you cleaning up with that washcloth?
Me: Oh no. Where is it?
Ellen: On a ploor. I show you.
(She runs down the hall proudly and points at her bedroom carpet.) See? It's on a ploor.
Me: No! Ellen, do we go pee-pee on the floor?
Me: No. We don't go pee-pee on the floor. Never, ever.
(I wish I could say this wasn't an exchange we've had many times before.)
If I hadn't had the bathroom door locked (remember the toilet bowl cleaner?) she most likely would have used the toilet instead of the floor. She's very interested in going on the toilet right now. And flushing it. Flushing it over and over and over again. And taking lots of toilet paper off the roll. And dunking it in the toilet and spreading it around the room.
I realize it's my fault for letting her out of my sight. I'm dumb like that.
So, how's your day going?