Perhaps

Perhaps I should keep better track of my kids. 

Tonight, Henry was so quiet that I sort of forgot about him and went about my merry way feeding Gracie her peas (not a big fan) and peaches (HUGE fan).  I'm about finished up with the spooning and scraping that is feeding an almost 5 month old when I hear "squeak squeak squeak" followed by laughter.  Forgetting where I'd "left" Henry, I looked in the family room.  Not there.  I look in the sunroom, half expecting him to have colored all over himself since he'd already had a bath.  Nope.

"Henry. Where are you?"

"I in here, Mommy. I squeaking!"  (More laughter.)

"Where is here, Henry?"

"Da potty, silly Mommy."

Oh yeah, now I remember.  Henry said he wanted to sit on the potty. (Simply a ploy to get an "M".) He enjoys sitting on the pot and perusing the Land of Nod and Pottery Barn Kids catalogs. So I had removed his diaper and sat him on his little potty in the bathroom off the laundry room.

Squeak, squeak, squeak.

Well, folks.  Henry had peed on the floor.  And was proceeding to squeak his new Mickey Mouse crocs in his own urine. 

Chuckling,  I rolled my eyes, looked at him and said, "You are such a boy, Henry.  Take off your crocs; they are covered in pee."

"Yes," my sweet son said, "but they squeak!"