“Do you need to sit on the potty?” I ask for the fifteenth time that day. “NO!” comes the reply. But when enticed with a book, my kids - all of them, potty trained or not - can be seen making a beeline for the tiny toilet in anticipation of the next great read.
We read, and read, and read some more, and sitting there just isn’t so painful or dull anymore (besides the smells, maybe).
It’s probably not a coincidence that housed in my own master bathroom are volumes of books, read and unread, pages dog-eared from the last visit to the toilet, piles of magazines and “daily” readers, a New Testament and book of Psalms, and catalogs on everything from fashion to products that promote greater efficiency.
Something tells me there will always be a lively stack of books in the boys’ bathroom, too.
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