• lookydaddy [at] gmail [dot] com

« Summertime in a Glass | Main | Dark and Stormy »

July 03, 2008


So glad my twins are twelve. So glad my twins are twelve. So glad my twins are twelve.

But, Kathryn. Poor little Kathryn.

I had myself one of those nights last night, why didn't anybody TELL me they were no fun? We feel for you!

Poor babies-- all of you, including Dad.

So, the twins are potty trained, except for occasionally pooping on everything? Throughout the story, I imagined your face with a very scary smile accompanied by random facial tics while you went about the business of saving fingers and un-pooping things.


Dear Mister Dad, you are a genius, hilarious, poignant writer; the twins provide your rabid fans with endless entertainment... and every time I visit your site I end up wishing I could give Kathryn a big hug and that it would fix her right up.

Blessings upon you and your family.

Wish you had gotten something slightly more festive than a Festive Toilet for that gem of a post. P.S. They're getting so big!

I can only chime in with Kay about how I too dream of being able to fix things for Kathryn with a big hug.
As for the poopy part of the post - true grace under pressure!

Dude! you made me cry and then spit on my monitor laughing all in about 5 min time.

and I'm really disappointed that there is no Festive Toilet pics.

Well told - you're a master.

Ditto to that!

You my friend, need to write a book... Because nobody and I mean NOBODY tells a story with the flair and finesse you do. Or maybe it's just that your life is so damn interesting/entertaining.

Please, PUHLEEAAASE, never stop blogging!

P.S. Except for that part with Katherine. Can someone please get those meds to start working because she's scaring the crap out of everyone... Possibly, even her sister.

I bet those cheeks hold a lot of smooches.
Lots of love to all your girls - it sounds like a rough summer.

The fatal error here seems that you sent them to a camp that doesn't change pull ups. I interviewed for that specifically.

"We offer nutritious snacks, safe outdoor play, arts and crafts, drama..."

"good, good, and the non potty trained ones' get to have fun too?? I'm In!"

How is Katherine?

holy crap.
I hope things get easier.
And I can't believe you put their carseats that close together. My twins would rip eachother to shreds!

It's been a while since you posted a photo of those two, and HOLY HELL have they grown. Make it stop, will ya'?

When I heard "Festive Toilet," that's not really what I was picturing. Can you change it so the festive was brightly colored streamers and maybe a pinata where the tank usually is? Oh, and no poop, please. KTHAX.

*hugs* to Kathryn. She needs to speed up the growing so she can be done with the whole scary thing.

sheesh. Your girls know how to bring the drama. We're on day nine of a fever but I'll stop complaining now.

Great story BUT... I have to say I'm disappointed because when you alluded to this in your earlier post, I was picturing "Victoria's Festive Toilet" as a mixed drink recipe.

to get the feces out of the treads

that one line did me in. good heavens. that is too much right there. forget the rest. poor daddy.

One picture is worth a thousand words.

You do know, don't know, that a whole new religon is springing up around you. It is the Society of People Who Wake Up Every Morning and Praise the Goddess That They Are Not Looky Daddy. Our second prayer of the day, of course, is the Hymn of Thanks for Looky Daddy and His Blog. (We DO love you, we're just very, very, glad we're NOT you.)

This is a very well-written tale, and you summed it up best re: the comedy/tragedy/drama.

I've sat thinking of something to say about it, but no luck-- I'm sorry for you on all counts, but I feel optimistic that everything will turn out well for you all.

How you make me laugh, cry, smile and feel proud all in one post is amazing. You're a talented writer, my friend. With stunning material!
Thanks for the toilet paper visual ;)

I was so happy that The Dad was still around when I returned! If anything would push a man to skeedaddle, this would've been it.

My heart goes out to Kathryn whenever I read about a seizure.

As for the poop, we can't quite match the festive toilet, but we sure seem to try. Latest was when both girls, now 3-1/2 went on a playdate my Mom set up. Shortly after arrival (and not more than 15 minutes after a potty trip) Elie, standing in the hostess' kitchen, let loose a stream of pee all over the floor, just missing the carpet. Moments after my Mom finished cleaning both the floor and the girl, including a complete wardrobe change, Kate announced that she needed to pee. Off Mom and Kate went to the bathroom, where Mom discovered Kate had pooped and peed in her undies--and too late to avoid yet another floor cleaning, girl cleaning, and wardrobe change.

While I'm not sure she's recovered her dignity just yet, I'm grateful she didn't send them to camp.

What a nightmare! Poor all of you. And here I was, thinking that my Melody's insistence on 17 feet of toilet paper every time she sits on the potty was my big potty-training challenge.

The comments to this entry are closed.