Father and son sat on the toilet for three hours with two quarts of apple juice and Angry Birds. The time stretched on and when all hope was almost lost, a stream of yellow-ness began to flow. Cheers filled the air as dad stood to stretch his legs. Potty training is hard work.
With pants around his ankles, pride encircled two year-old CJ.
He had finally used the potty like his big brothers.
Selecting from a basket of prizes, his hands eagerly reached for Doctor Doom - the Super Hero Squad bad guy. Gingerly folding Doctor Doom in his arms, CJ embraced his pee-pee toy.
"I love you Doctor Doom and I will never ever let you go," his lips pressed against the plastic figurine face again and again.
Tucked into bed with his villainous friend, CJ slept through the night with a smile stamped across his face. Despite all the terrible things he has done, Doctor Doom quickly became my super hero last night. Anyone - and I mean anyone - capable of motivating my uninterested two year-old to ditch the diapers and flush is a "big shot" worth celebrating.
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