Potty Persuasion

We aren't potty training. Not really, anyway; I'm not in a big rush to do it, mostly because I'm lazy and don't feel like cleaning up pee puddles and washing extra laundry and whatnot. But the other night, just for kicks, I told Mason that if he pooped in the potty, I'd take him out for ice cream.

Now, for those of us who use the bathroom according to when our body tells us we need to use the bathroom, the concept of pooping on command is just about inconceivable. If someone says "jump", I can jump... but if someone says "poop", I'm pretty sure that would be a more difficult order to follow. Yet, within a matter of minutes after having uttered the bribe, a turd the size of a grape had fallen out of Mason's butt into the potty and I found myself in the car driving the magical child to Dairy Queen.


Why is he eating the ice cream at home (pants-less) and not at Dairy Queen, you ask? Moments after ordering our ice cream, before it was even made, the kid does it again. Not on command this time.