Sara likes to play many games, mostly just made up stuff we do around the house. “Tow Tow”, which really just constitutes me pouring some macaroni into tupperware, and Sara throwing it ALL over the house.
It used to involve scooping and mixing, but it has evolved….

“Row Baby” is a two-parter: Sara rocks her baby while asking me to sing Rock-a-Bye-Baby over and over until I nearly lose my voice. Not to be confused with “Row Row”, as in Your Boat. Entirely different game.

Near the top of Sara’s faves is a game she calls “Pooh Poppy”. No, not Poo in the Potty. That’s too easy. Winnie the Pooh is on her potty, which is counter-intuitive to teaching her the meaning of “Poo”.
Actual Poo? She calls Choca. For chocolate. I know, gross.

Sara begs to go “Pooh Poppy”, which is a “game” in which she sits on the Potty. Grabs her wipes, flushes, and washes her hands. I know what you’re thinking; Sara is potty training herself! Riiiiiight.
If only, in months of playing this game she had ever actually put anything other than wipes in that potty. Ever. I know, I know. Eventually, Sara will actually use the Pooh Potty. Even if it’s just
out of sheer coincidence from having sat on the darned thing 10x per day.

Forgive me for lacking enthusiasm. My arse is numb from sitting in the bathroom doorway, reading her books about dry pants. The highlight to this game? While changing her diaper, she now yells at the top of her lungs a long list of everyone who poopies. ELMO POOPIES! DADDY POOPIES! MOMMY POOPIES!
Before you laugh too hard, you’re on the list….