The Boy Who Cried Pooh…

When Luke wants to delay the inevitable, such as leaving the house to go somewhere he doesn’t want to go, he often claims that he has a pooh in his diaper. 

It’s a simple yet effective tactic.  I have to at least check to make sure I’m not forcing my beloved son to walk around with a diaper full of crap.

Unfortunately, it appears that Luke has become a bit of a homebody and frequently wants to avert or at least delay departure.  Sometimes he’s just in a mood where he doesn’t want to leave the house, no matter where we’re going.  He’ll repeatedly plead, “I want to stay at home!”  And when we’re at our destination, he’ll repeatedly plead, “I want to go home!” 

Today, as we were getting ready to leave for my parents, Luke decided that today was one of those days and stated matter-of-factly.  “Dad, we’re not going.”  Then, when informed that we were in fact going, insisted, “but I want to stay home!”  (The first of several such declarations.)

When we were finally ready to walk out the door, Luke went to old reliable: “Dad, I went pooh.”

Charlotte, immediately suspicious, noted, “Dad, I don’t smell anything.”  I responded that we’d find out pretty quickly.

Sure enough, a clean diaper, prompting the following story:

“Luke, have you heard about the boy who cried pooh?” (he shakes his head no)  “There was a little boy named Luke who often cried that he poohed his diaper when he hadn’t.  Then one day, he poohed his diaper, but his parents didn’t believe him and refused to change his diaper for days.  He smelled so bad that none of his friends wanted to hang out with him.  All because he cried pooh when it simply wasn’t true.”

Unfortunately, Luke had lost all interest by that point. 

I hope you enjoyed today’s serving of ‘mac & cheese.’