The Potty Enforcement Officers Have Arrived

I was thisclose to taking a picture of Gabriel this morning, standing in a puddle of Number One in the middle of my just-Swiffered kitchen floors, with his arms raised, yelling, "This is a mess!" (As if the yellow-tinge wouldn't give away what this "mess" was.) 

"Gabriel!!!!!!!!!!......" I had just finished Anna's mid-day feeding, and was on my way in to make some lunch. This is our first day without Abuela here in two weeks. She and the Rassi Crew left this morning at 6 a.m. and Manny and I were both in tears as they drove away. We couldn't have survived without her emergency flight into New York last Sunday. Two hours later, my mom and sister flew in, but while Mama Moore was taking a conference call with work and Kelli was taking a nap, I decided I would try to run the household for the first time since Anna's arrival. 

Enough said. 

Frustrated up to HERE with Gabe's complete lack of interest in joining the ranks of Big Boys, Inc., I made him stand there. And stand there. I then handed him a paper towel folded in the shape of a Square. 

"I want a triangle paper towel." 

I folded it into a triangle, biting my tongue. What I wanted to say was "You'll take it like I give it to you" but I retreated. He cleaned it up. 

We had just purchased a James train, one of Thomas the Tank Engine's friends. 

"No more James until you go in the potty. If you pee in your underwear one more time, James goes into the garbage and you'll never see him again."

Shock and fear flooded his face.

The Potty Enforcement Officers have arrived, as of Noon today. James rests on top of the refrigerator, in plain view but out of complete reach of the Gabester. James' fate rests in the hands (or should I say "the pants") of our 3-year old. 

We'll let you know how it goes.