My almost three year old is not potty trained. Not even close. A month ago, when I asked her if she'd like to wear big-girl underpants like her sister, she gave me a look and said, "No mommy. I where diapers. I'm the only one in the family that wears diapers."
Well. That was that for a while.
But yesterday, for reasons known only to herself, she decided she'd like to try on some of her underwear. She wore them around the house for several hours. She didn't actually use the toilet, but neither did she wet the rug. This is progress of a kind.
Today she wanted to wear underpants again, but this time, she wanted to wear them over to a friend's house for a play date. This friend (hi, Tris) happens to be a bit of a germ-a-phobe, and I also happen to know that she just had her carpets cleaned due to a doggie doo doo incident this week. So, I had to tell Livie no, she could not wear her undies. But she could bring them with us and show them to Auntie Tris.
Half way over on the car ride, I checked the rear view mirror, and there in the back seat was Livie, sporting her pink undies with the white polka dots -- on her head. She looked exactly like Brett Michaels with his bandanna on. Only with leg holes. Despite the danger, I immediately snapped a photo with my cell phone. I'd post it if I had the equipment or know-how to do so.
For once, my stubborn almost three year old found a compromise to make herself happy all on her own. It may not be a socially acceptable compromise, but it worked for Mommy. Just one of those moments I had to celebrate in blog. Good times.
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