Like many toddlers ours love animals. They love singing songs with animal sounds, love looking for the monkey, and showing me the embroidered zebra on their pillowcases, so when I came upon the Parents Animal Hospital, I added it to the cart, held out a few weeks, and finally revealed the sucker when I was about to drag a spork across my wrists.
A new toy will always hold them over. Especially when said toy has a BEDPAN included. Though try explaining that one to a child. Or an adult for that matter. I’m still not quite sure how a bedpan works. If it’s just some shallow bucket you grab when you feel the urge to pee, why not use a 7-11 Big Gulp cup? Why a bed pan? Do you know the way a massage chair has a hole for where your face rests? I know this isn’t right, but growing up I always imagined bedpans were similar to that hole, built into the beds. I also believed the pooping was done on the premises, so to speak.
Still, the wees love to make their animals go wee in the bedpan. We’re still working on the potty. Abigail’s almost fully potty trained, both at school and at home. Senor Beckett, on the other hand, has shown no interest, except for today, when I tried to entice him with TRAIN big boy pants. He lit up, and said, "No more diaper! Train pants, Mama, train pants!!!" I took flight, sprung into action, riffled through his sock/underwear drawer to discover fish underpants, dinosaurs, turtles. Diego.
That was it. The moment was gone. No train underwear. "No way," he told me. "Diaper, please." Sheesh.
As for the Animal Hospital, they’ve nearly outgrown it, and prefer the doll I made them (shown above). They named her Sneaky Trina. The only problem is, Sneaky Trina needs a bedpan now because Mr. Bikini smelled the uncooked rice in her weighted tush and decided to taste it. So our sneaky miss now has a bunghole. What’s not to love?