Sunday, I thought we had successfully worn Huxley out for his nap. We ate lunch at his favorite restaurant, Red Robin. He drank chocolate milk and ate fry fries. Afterwards, we romped through the snow and visited the doggie store while Daddy shopped. Huxley and I went through our normal nap-time routine. We read books and then snuggled. I left his room, turned on the baby monitor, and started some homework. He was happily chatting for several minutes, and then I heard a scream, like he had pinched his finger, stubbed his toe, or maybe fell. I never found out why he was crying.
I ran to his room, and as I got close, I noticed it smelled really bad. I figured he had pooped, and I would change his diaper and plop him back in bed. As I opened the door, I see several wet spots on the floor. Then a poopie diaper resting atop his dresser caught my eye. For a moment, I'm shocked and horrified. I look over towards Huxley, and he's diaperless, pants at his knees, and still peeing on the floor.
I don't know how I'll ever potty train him if he really pees that much.
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