Mom, Interrupted

And just like that, my reporting from home takes a back seat again.

Potty training is a tough sell, especially with twins--of different genders.

I've waited for a police chief to call me back for about a week. He calls, and we have a great conversation. During the interview, the twins have decided to play with toys they rarely give two thoughts about, namely, CYMBALS! true story.

So the chief indulges me and giggles throughout the interview.

Once finished, I check in with the big girl and big boy pants. The boy pants return the "Hello!" *sigh*

"Go to the bathroom." Cleaning and convo begins. "Micah, why didn't you tell me you had to go poo poo?"

This is hard to read. Go forward at your own risk...

"Because, mommy, you were on the phone."

Tear.

"I'm so sorry Micah. But if you need to go and I'm on the phone, you can say, 'Excuse me, mommy, I have to go potty."

"Ok mommy."

Tear.