It’s always fun watching a kid learn (and mis-use) new words. Like this morning when Peter hid under the covers and then jumped out to say surprise, and told me he “joked” me.
Sometimes you have to be careful, though, to make sure they understand words the way you think they do.
We’ve been trying, unsuccessfully, to use various incentives to get Peter more interested in potty training. We know he can do it, since he did it when my folks were watching the kids for several days. Our latest attempt was to get him interested in a gymnastics half-day camp. He’s expressed interest in going, especially since he likes the coach for his regular weekly session, Miss Julia… but you have to be potty-trained to go.
This morning Katherine reminded him (as I changed yet another poopy diaper) that he needs to poop in the potty if he wants to go to camp. I warned her that we needed to find a different word than “camp.” Why? Because yesterday, Peter expressed his desires further:
“When I poop inna potty, I can go to camp with Miss Julie!”
“That’s right, buddy! You’ll go to gymnastics camp!”
“Uh-huh! An’ we’ll have marshmallows… an’ sit ’round the campfire… an’ put the marshmallows onna stick… I love camp.”
Oops. Wrong kind of camp, buddy.