When honesty is (and is not) the best policy

When it is:

Prior to bedtime, Jamie was recently humoring Haddie with horsey rides. When the dear man looked like he was about to collapse, I jumped in and defended him.

“Daddy can’t do it any longer.”
“Why not?”
“He is 37 and old.”
“How old are you?”
“I’m still young. I am 35.” (BWAHAHAHAHA)
“Well, can you do it then, Mommy?”
“Why not?”
“Because Mommy is just lazy.”

When it is not:

Potty training continues to be a challenge. Even though the Hurricane pees most of the time in the potty, she refuses to poop. Jamie and I made the executive decision to just put her in panties because keeping her in diapers seemed like a step backwards (any opinions on this? Help!)

Oh, and because we don’t have enough trauma in our lives and thought we would add cleaning defecated underwear to the mix.

She had a couple of accidents last weekend, which she discreetly shared with Jamie. The pattern continued the other night when I heard her pleading to him, “Don’t tell Mommy!”

Now, most mothers would have felt remiss they were left out.

I felt triumphant.

A secret poop that I would not have to change? I had finally arrived.

Until he did the unthinkable: he made her fess up to me. And my daddy-only dumps came to a sad, sad end.

Clearly, a time when honesty is not the best policy.

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