"Sange meh!"

Km: "What? What are you trying to tell me?"

Wg: "Sangeh meh!"

Km: "What? Wg, please, point... or something! Show me!"

Wg: "I said, SANGEH MEH!"

Km: *Looking hopelessly at Dg* 

Dg: "He said, change him.''

Km: *looking in horror at Wg* "Why would I need to change you Wg?"

Wg: *sheepish*

Km: "Wg...."

Dg: "He probably pooped."

Wg: "Yup."

Km: "UGH! WG!!!!"

I am babysitting the boys tonight. Dad and Nh have gone on a date. I don't mind at all. The four or so hours they're gone has proven to be quite a stress reliever for me. I enjoy painting, taking walks, and reading with the boys.

Before Nh left she explained to me several things: Make sure not to get Dg's cast wet, Dg likes Ravioli and Wg doesn't... etc. etc. Most disconcerting of all these things is this: "Wg is wearing underwear now" (after this sentence she gives me a funny look and says...) "But he is by no means potty trained!" At which point my heart sunk into my stomach. She explained that he should be fine, and is pretty good at going potty. Every five minutes after she and dad left I asked Wg if he had to go to the bathroom. His response was always, "Nope Km!" I should have known better. 

So now we're back at the beginning of the blog, this poop conversation. I tell Wg to go sit on the potty, as he walks away I can't see anything in his pants... so I sigh a sigh of relief. I am hoping he will do his business in the toilet. I walk into the bathroom to find a half dressed Wg with... well... poop all over his little white butt standing over the toilet. As I approach him I can see that he has dropped his underwear in the toilet. "WG! Why are your underwear in the toilet!?" Little Wg replies with, "You know, I am washing them." Simple. Silly. 

The rest, is history.