Most of our most humorous conversations with Layla happen around the toilet. The other night I had one of the most interesting we’ve had to date. As she sat perched on the pot, legs spread wide, hunched over, and head shoved between her legs trying to watch herself drop a turd, I am greeted with the familiar “can you watch me doo-doo, mama”?
So there I sat, assuming my usual spot on the tub beside the toilet, watching my child peek between her legs, look up at me and grin, and then back between her legs. After we had been there a while, I hear:
“Mama, I made a banana! Look, it’s a banana doo doo”!
It looked nothing like a banana, so I have no idea where that was coming from, but on and on she went. About how she pushed a banana out, but it doesn’t smell like a banana. She was very obviously proud and excited about making this banana, so of course I had to cheer and give high fives and fist bumps to celebrate.
All I could think about was how her diet must be good. Isn’t it Dr. Oz who is always saying you should have a C or S shaped turd? I’m guessing a banana would fit in there somewhere.
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