Gone are onesies, wet wipes, rash,
We're adding pull-ups to that stash
Or so we hope.
In comes big boy underpants,
frilly panties or dinosaurs that dance,
We dream of progress.
Methods come, endless advice;
Our children have their own device.
Training's not their choice.
Some kids go upon command,
others require a more firm hand.
Or just won't go.
Targets for the boys to hit;
Girls who scream and throw a fit;
Or sit terrified.
It seems they'll poop in every place
Except the spot reserved with space.
And then go hide.
Every country, every tongue
Has a way it must be done.
To train a child to properly
Do what does come naturally.
I've been thinking about you and praying for all of you these last few weeks!