Our Nudist

We are potty training the youngest Snuphette. Our method is simple. Take off kid’s pants, provide frequent potty encouragement, and render singing, dancing, and high fives for successful events.

 

Great progress has been made, but not without repercussions.

 

For example, she has begun waking up around 4 am unwilling to pee in her diaper. She lays in bed screaming “mommy” in a voice out of The Exorcist until someone tends to her needs. Mommy can’t sleep through the din as effectively as Daddy. All of this makes Mommy cranky.

 

Also, since our methodology involves nudity, far be it for our little tyke not to take the concept to its extreme. Her morning routine is to eat breakfast, strip off her pj pants and diaper, deposit the night’s diaper in the trash, strip off her pj top, perch on her personal, miniature potty seat, then hit the toy closet with a vengeance. Unless we can bribe her with a “pretty” outfit or a venture to a public place she wants to visit, she shuns our efforts to peaceably clothe her. Since there seem to be other important issues more worthy of battle, like keeping out of the medicine cabinet and electrical outlets, so far we’ve been letting this issue slide.

 

After Monday’s Memorial Day parade, our neighbor asked “are you potty training MissT?”

 

“Yes. Why do you ask?” was my wife’s response.

 

“Oh, well, we’ve noticed her playing in your back yard a lot lately without any clothes!! Er, um, haha”

 

I wanted to explain that forced nudity is the house punishment for not using good manners. But since we’re already a little uneasy about child services showing up asking about a couple of recent calls to the poison control center, I held my tongue, and let the truth stand as delivered. And what the hell, she wasn’t naked for the parade. She was wearing a cute white dress with red and blue stars, and she waived a small American flag on a stick at the folks in the parade. She was both adorable and clearly not neglected.

 

Of course shortly after we got home, the potty came back into play, and the clothes disappeared.

 

In fact, later that evening, she accompanied me out onto the front porch to light the grill for obligatory Memorial Day burgers and dogs. When my mom pulled up at the curb, my little girl was very excited. So excited, she went down our front steps to the street level to greet her grandmother. When my 76 year old mom got out of her car, she was appalled to find her 2 year old granddaughter wearing nothing but a pair of these:

 

 

“Does your mommy know you’re out here with no clothes on?”, grandma queried. Obviously her nudity is mommy’s responsibility, as well as her presence at the front curb, despite the fact I was standing on the porch.

 

“No”, my daughter answered honestly. She was promptly and speedily escorted into the house. I cracked a fresh beverage and grilled holiday meats.

 

My mom didn’t say anything after that, but I could tell she did not approve. The nudity continued. Little Snuphette ate her hot dog and baked beans like I wanted to: au naturale.

 

I didn’t mind. My mother’s scorn is pretty easy to endure knowing that I may have changed my last diaper.