Nora bellers from her bedroom. I just tucked her in for the night. Ben walks down the hallway to check on her. She says she has to go potty and she wants me to take her.
“Mom’s asleep,” says Ben.
“No, she’s not,” Nora responds in a lilt.
“You’re a big kid now. If you need to go potty, you can go by yourself.” Then, somehow, he leaves the room without igniting a a toddler firestorm.
A moment later, we hear sounds from the bathroom. Ben gets up to check on her; if she pooped, she needs help wiping. Nora is already back in her room. He sticks his head in.
“I went potty and I wiped.”
“Did you go pee or poop?”
“I just peed,” she pauses, “I’m going to sing that song you like:
‘In a cavern,
In a canyon,
Excavating for a mine.
You were lost a and gone forever
Dreadful sorry, Clementine.'”