Is it time?

Connor follows me into the washroom. No, this isn't weird for us. We do it all the time. If by some miracle I happen to beat him there and manage to get the door shut, he whine's, knocks, tries to turn the knob or gets his hand stuck in the space under the door while trying to get it open. So I just let him in now - I figure I'll save him the pain of decapitating his little hand. We obviously failed to convince him way back when that there is not a secret exit out of the house from the bathroom. "I must exit through the same door I entered so therefor, I AM COMING BACK!" Anyhoo, back to my point...his intentions for the follow in seem different lately! Before, he would tag along just to fit in a quick play with his bath toys (very quick-I'm a fast pee-er) but lately he is really paying attention to how this whole using the bathroom thing really works. First, he started flushing the toilet for me after I was done. And then Mike mentioned something about Connor being enthralled with the fountain like beauty that is a man peeing. But this last time took the cake. He pulled toiled paper off of the roll and wiped himself as though he just had a poo.

Is it time...dun-dun-dun...to potty train? That means I must prepare myself for poop on the carpet and pee on my couch. For singing potty songs and awarding potty presents. For celebrations and setbacks.

I'm not convinced that it's quite yet time...