On Friday, I found myself at a department store looking for a gift for my wife. Some friends were helping me in the process, and my three-year-old son, Josiah, was along. While conversing with a nice lady on the other side of a jewelry counter, I told her that our family was going to soon take a trip to Disney World in Orlando. Wanting to involve Josiah in the conversation, I instructed him, “Tell her what you are going to do at Disney World.”
You must understand, at this point, that what I expected was for Josiah to tell her that he was going to see Mickey Mouse, ride rides, or something like that. We’re looking for what kind of thing has him excited about going to the happiest place on earth.
Imagine, then, my fatherly pride when my boy piped up and told the saleslady, “I’m gonna tell Mickey Mouse that I can pee-pee in the potty.”
Gift for my wife: $$$
Gas for the trip: $$
Hearing my son tell a jewelry department lady that he is going to converse with a stranger in a costume about his ability to pee-pee in the potty: Priceless