Friday, September 19, 2008

Strike three...you're out!

Upon picking Austin up from school today, I asked his teacher if he had a good day. She said that he did, for the most part. But that he'd been saying poop all day and laughed when he said it. This was the third time. I warned Austin the last time about what would happen if he said it one more time. I told Austin that when we got home, he'd have to pick out the bar of soap.

The ride home was quiet to say the least. No request for a happy story today. We pulled into the garage and Austin said, calmly, "I'll go pick out my soap." I thought "This is way too easy." We grabbed a zip loc (my mother's suggestion) on the way upstairs to save Austin's special bar of soap for the next time (which I'm sure will be sooner than I think).

We headed upstairs. Austin went into his bathroom and I told him that we were going into my bathroom to get a brand new bar of soap. We went into my bathroom, I opened the drawer, and pulled out a new bar of Safeguard. Austin, naively, held open the zip loc bag thinking that we were just going to put the bar of soap into the bag. I told him to sit on the toilet and open his mouth. By this time, Austin had figured it out, that this wasn't going to end well for him. The tears started flowing and cries of "No" rang out. Hands over his mouth.

I held his hands away from his mouth and told him to open. He said "I don't want to." I told him that I didn't want to do this either, that he'd said potty words, that I told him the last time he said those words that he'd have to wash his mouth out with soap. The soap was only in his mouth for a second or two but it felt like forever for Austin and for me.

After the wash out, we placed Austin's soap in the zip loc and placed the bag in a drawer in my bathroom. I hope this is the only time I have to do this, but I have a feeling that this is just the beginning.

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