As If I Needed Another Reason to Start Potty-Training

Tonight Ryan was changing Henry's diaper while I was furiously typing away trying to get my grad school paper finished. I, wisely, decided to play the game I used to play as a little girl called "If You Don't Talk, They Won't Know You are Listening." This is what I heard:

"No, Henry! Don't touch it!"

"Oh, GOD! Now it's on your hands!"

"Dammit! We're out of wipes" (Hmmm... wonder how that happened).

"OH MY GOD! NO! DON'T RUB YOUR EYES! HENRY, STOP!"

It goes without saying that I'm pretty sure we are going to have a massive case of pink eye at my house any day now. It's a waiting game.

In case you are wondering, "Hey, Jacque! Have you ever had pink eye before?" The answer is, yes. The last time I got pink eye, I was on Spring Break in college in the Bahamas and my friend, Katie, had to walk me around at night because I couldn't wear my contacts. Totally safe to be blind. When you're drunk. In a foreign country. In a massive crowd of people.

So without further ado, let the potty training countdown begin! Six days!