All the cool kids are doing it.
Even though I'm not entirely interested in spending my days cleaning pee out of my carpets, reading Everybody Poops on a loop while I sit in the bathroom with my toddler, and clapping every time he sits on his potty, Quinn is exhibiting all the signs of readiness.
The most obvious one being his steadfast determination to wear underpants rather than diapers at all times and his announcements that he wants to pee in the potty. It's hard to misinterpret that.
So in the interest of showing lazy parents everywhere how to potty train their children waaaaaay after they're ready, I present Quinn's Tutorial on Peeing in the Potty:
Get your mom's attention by stridently shrieking about underpants all day long. Extra points if you let her get your Finding Nemo underpants halfway on before you start screaming for "Thomas the Tank Engine! Thomas the Tank Engine!"
Sit on the potty. 'Nuff said.
Absorb propaganda. How big exactly do you have to be to be too big for diapers? After your mom reads you the desired number of books, then—and only then—should you pee.
No one wants to leave their old pee sitting around, so next you should remove the pee-catching receptacle.
Where to put it? Where to put it? Aha! Pour it in the toilet!
In the spirit of, "No! Me! No! Me! I wanna do it!" put water from the bathroom sink in the empty pee receptacle...
...and pour that in the toilet as well.
Everybody says this is the fun part, and although it seems incredibly wasteful to flush an entire toilet for a tablespoon of pee, go ahead and flush.
Astound your mother by actually putting something back where it belongs.
Spend the rest of the afternoon trying to put on your underpants.
Demand M&Ms for the oh-so-strenuous task of peeing in a cup. Insist on only yellow and orange candy.
Display an increasingly hostile and demanding side of yourself if your mom doesn't give you enough M&Ms, or if—God forbid!—she eats one herself. Demand that she regurgitate it and give it back to you.
Steadfastly refuse to poop anywhere other than your diaper, or occasionally your underpants, thereby dashing your mother's hopes of stress-free potty training.