Chicken Little suffered his first real loss today. The pair of underwear that he loved the most has finally bitten the dust.
Dash underwear were what finally convinced him that he needed to potty train. He really believed that if he had them on he could run faster. They were always the ones he would grab first.
If he was running he would occasionally stop, regardless of place or company, and drop his drawers to check which underwear he had on. If they were his Dash underwear he would shout “Good!” and get a sudden burst of speed. If not, he would mutter “Nuts, forget it.” and stop running.
We started out with two pairs and one of them I secretly retired long ago. The last pair I decided to retire tonight. You can see why. I gave Max the news with the seriousness and sensitivity the situation required. He bawled openly for at least ten minutes.
I considered briefly if a good mother would have given Dash some sort of ceremony. Would that help him move on? I played taps on the kazoo and that seemed to cheer him up. Hopefully he’ll be feeling better tomorrow.