There are many things that, before having kids, I could never have imagined myself doing. Today I found myself gravely telling my three-year-old that Zoe [much-loved character from Sesame Street] really, really wants Julia to keep her Pull-Up dry, and instead use the potty chair. For all its intended purposes. Every time. And that Zoe is so, so sad that Julia still has not done this, and that therefore Zoe will not be able to come live with us [in the form of a stuffed doll Julia gets as a potty training reward. When she finally gets trained. You know, at age 16 or so, at the rate we're going here]. And I told her that Zoe keeps calling the house to check. And we have to keep telling her, Sorry, no go. And that the preschool keeps calling to check too. And that we have to keep telling them, Sorry, doesn't look promising on our end. And Julia listens to us solemnly, eyes wide, dead serious, appropriately concerned, promising her cooperation from that moment on.
Yup. Lying to our child. That's what it's come to. We've got a serious deadline, people!
Oh, one more thing. It's not working.