Potty training a boy is not my thing


Oh Cooper!  We love you dearly but would appreciate it if a) you pooped on the toilet and b) would let us know ALL the time when we are in the car that you have to pee.

After the disappointment of meeting someone at Casey’s to sell a swim suit (Craigslist is a friend and foe at times) and after backing my SUV into a cement thingy that held up a light (thanks none other to Casey’s delivery truck needing my exact spot I was parked in waiting for Craigslist no-show trying not to look like a creeper with a vehicle loaded with kids looking around for a “teal alero” or “red harley” and for their lawn crew for making it impossible to get out of said spot), I decided that the kids and I were going  to go to Target and get diapers and order cupcakes for Eden’s birthday.  Eden was stoked and I was thankful that I didn’t just load all four kids in the car for no reason at all.

We pull into Target parking lot and grab a cart to load the kids into and as I go to unbuckle Cooper, I realize he peed himself and I have no extra shorts for him.  I do have underwear in my bag but shorts, not so much.  And you can’t exactly go into the store with your son in a t-shirt and flip flops.  But then again, maybe people would feel sorry for me and buy me a coffee beverage.  I digress…

Anyway, I had to load all the kids back into the car and drive home.  I managed to pout the whole way back because I didn’t make $10, I damaged my vehicle, and I didn’t get to go to Target.

There you have it folks.  A typical Friday morning in the Hufford home.


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