“Daddy? I need a tissue.”

After the boy and I had such fun playing through LEGO Batman 3, I hunted around for the other big LEGO Superhero game, LEGO Marvel Superheroes. It confuses the boy terribly that some superheroes are from DC and some are from Marvel and never the twain shall meet (unless you, like me, have some of the amalgam comic books but that’s another story) but nevertheless, he’s definitely more into Spider-Man than Batman, so last night we were both pretty excited when we stripped the cellophane off the game box.

We were just in the process of defeating Sandman (I was Iron Man, the boy was Hulk), when Ned wandered into the room and said “Daddy? I need a tissue.”, thus ensuring that Iron Man was flattened by the Sandman and I lost about 500 studs. He appeared to have stuck in hand in the jar of Nutella. Then the smell hit me. It wasn’t Nutella.

Oh God.

Ned has thwarted most of our attempts to potty train him up until now. He will occasionally do a wee on the potty, just to show us that we could he if wanted to, but he has point blank refused to do a poo on either the potty or the toilet. This is a shame and it has become so bad he now sometimes takes himself off to a different room and hides in the corner so we can’t spot his “face of doing a poo” and pop him on the toilet.

Upon discussion with the excrement smeared 3 year old, I ascertained such an occurrence had happened. Ned had taking himself off to the play room, done an enormous turd in his nappy and decided to come and get me to change it. However due to his recent diet he found the poo slightly hard and it appeared to have been digging into him, so he decided to see if he could move it a bit on the way from the play room to the sitting room.

Lovely.

True to form it was a full 360 degree wrap around poo, filling his nappy, with enough apparently left over to successfully cake his hand and get lodged under his fingernails. I wasn’t a happy bunny, especially as the resident poo monitor (I’m the resident sick monitor) was out for a run.

I can still smell the stuff and probably need an evening of stiff drinks to sort me out properly…

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