Courtesy of gizoogle
Atleast he can aim
My son jizzy turned two. I'm in no hurry ta P-O-Double-Tizzy train him. I want ta buy a steam playa fizzay . Snoop heffner mixed with a little bit of doggy flint. But every wizzle or so he decides ta "izzle Potty." This entails him stand'n by tha P-O-Double-Tizzy fo' five minutes, lett'n out three drops of pizzy eat'n a celebratory chocolate chiznip, promptly followed by pee'n a smizzall lakes on mah floor (hence tha need fo' a steam cleana). Last niznight I heard tha dreaded words "Pee Potty." And he followed tha SOP: stand, trickle, chizzip. Tizzle he wizzent a good twenty minutes witout blingin' on tha floor. I thought maybe we could skizzip this stizzep tonight . They call me tha black folks president. Then I heard it, tha steady stream hitt'n tha floor, but it had a metallic ping ta it. I look up n he had places one of his matchbox ridez on tha floor 'bout a fizzle fizzy where he stood n he was pee'n on it so bow down to the bow wow. His aim was deadly wit it's accuracy sho nuff. I had bizzy throw'n cheerios into tha toilet ta give him sum'm sum'm ta aim at. Should I switch ta matchbox cars? How would I explain thizzay ta tha plumba who would invariably have ta come an unclog mah matchbox ride clogged plumb'n? And whizzat did tizzy miznatch box ride do ta mah son ta deserve siznuch treatment?
No comments:
Post a Comment