Here's a bonus that I didn't publish from January (further proof that 2011 is a sneaky bastard):
Last night I was awakened by the pathetic cries of a child in distress...and greeted them with the pathetic grumblings of an adult who was comfortably sleeping. Jack was banging on his bedroom door and sobbing, and as I took the last step towards his door to open it, I heard the telltale splash of a deluge of pee hitting carpet. I opened the door to find him, half-asleep, confused, ashamed, tired, and standing in a puddle. I was shocked and tried to get him to explain why he didn't use the bathroom that is off of his room. He couldn't put together a coherent answer, so I stripped him and got him into a steamy shower and then proceeded to mop up pee. Now I can't tell you how many times in the last 10 years I've been suddenly awoken by someone's need to defecate...or to the evidence that they ALREADY HAVE. Not to shock you, but this is seedy underbelly of life with children and dogs.
When all was once again peaceful (and dry) I consoled Jack as I put him back to bed. He was really embarrassed that he had had an accident (who wouldn't be?) so I consoled him the only way I knew how: "At least you didn't have to poop!"
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