My daughter Beth had finally reached the stage where she was ready to use the potty-training seat all by herself! (It’s OK. I’ll wait while you applaud.) Squeak, click, went the bathroom door.
A moment later, there was a blood-curdling scream. I turned into Uber-Dad and flew to the water closet. Shake! Rattle! The door was locked! “What’s wrong, honey?
I was answered by a plaintive cry of despair.
Smash, crack, bam! I kicked the door open and tumbled into the once peaceful cubicle.
I grabbed her finger and kissed it all over. “Ohhhh, what happened honey?”
Tears gathered in her eyes.
“I got poo-poo on it.”