When my younger brother Wes was young, he'd hold his poop for days. Sometimes it would seem like weeks. But, I'd take him to the library or the pool and as soon as we'd settle in and start enjoying our surroundings, he'd go. It was uncanny. I don't know what the deal was with the pool, but I'm convinced that something about books, magazines, newspapers, etc. makes them the thinking man's (or woman's) laxative. Perhaps it's due to the fact that books were always part of potty training in our home (you gotta have something to do while you sit there for hours, waiting). Regardless, we've all ended up pretty patterned.
Apparently Storey has inherited this gene from my side of the family. Each morning we read. Our current favorite is Goodnight Moon. I'm thinking about adding an extra line to the text, (goodnight poop) because, as we read, she fills her pants with great abandon. In reference to my oration abilities, I'm not sure whether I should feel flattered or offended.
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