Pooh In the Potty

I'm not a big fan of Winnie the Pooh. I've always thought he was a whiny character with an annoying voice and an irrational fixation on pots full of honey. (Hey, honey is perfectly fine, but it's not really worth obsessing over. If it was bacon, maybe I'd understand, but not honey.) While I'm okay with a couple of his friends (Tigger and Eeyore, in particular) I just don't have much use for Pooh.

And then, of course, there is the name. Who in their right mind names a character in a children's book after excrement? It just doesn't make any sense.

I've written before about how I have an uncontrollable need to make poo jokes any time I'm around Winnie. (See: Pooh Happens.) But, something happened the other night that is compelling me to bring the subject up again.

I'm not sure where they came from, but my two year-old daughter has a couple of stuffed Winnie the Poohs among the herd of stuffed animals she insists on sleeping with in her bed every night. The two Poohs are different sizes, so to tell them apart she calls the smaller one "Baby Pooh" and the larger one "Daddy Pooh." (Even my wife can't help but make jokes about "Daddy Pooh." It's just too easy. And funny.)

So much Pooh!!!
(But, hey, would it be too much to ask the bear to wear some pants?)

The other night was bath night for the kids. As I got our oldest daughter set up in the tub, her two year-old sister stayed around to watch. I know, I know: bathing should not be a spectator sport. But, at that moment it just wasn't worth the fight to try to get the two year-old out of there. I left the two of them in the bathroom and went to check on the baby.

When I got back to the bathroom, I couldn't believe what I saw: Baby Pooh was in the potty!

There is Pooh in the potty!!!

A few weeks ago, during Spring Break, we made an attempt to potty-train the two year-old. It was a very unsuccessful attempt, but we still had the "toddler potty" on the floor of the bathroom just in case the two year-old miraculously decided she would rather poop in the potty than in her diaper. Instead, she did this. She had heard the term "poop in the potty" enough times that she knew where her Pooh should go.

When I texted this picture to some friends and family, my mother-in-law, knowing my juvenile sense of humor, assumed that I had staged the photo myself. Nope. It was all the two year-old's idea.

Apparently no one in my family is capable of avoiding the potty humor of Pooh jokes.