My poor little Quinn. We all know about his, ahem, problems. Flat out, the boy has trouble pooping. We give him Miralax and whatever else we think will make him poop. At an age when most people are giving their children M&Ms for pooping on the potty, we give Quinn a Hershey Kiss every time he poops—no matter where it happens.
And if he doesn’t poop over the course of two or three days, we give him a suppository. (Listen, if this is too much information, I think you were warned by the title of this post.)
Needless to say, he hates suppositories. I make sure to tell him ahead of time if he’s getting one so that he’s not terrified of every diaper change. Regardless, every time I put him on the changing table (I cannot wait to get rid of that piece of furniture, by the way.) he says, “No suppository.”
It’s a little sad.
Today at preschool when I was co-oping, the kids were playing in pans of water and Quinn had a little penguin that he was sailing around on a toy boat. At some point he picked up a little plastic stick, turned the penguin on its side, and started jabbing at its butt area with the tip.
“I’m giving him a suppository,” he said.
Better the penguin than him, I guess.
The other co-oping mom pretty much laughed her head off. Feel free to do the same. I did.