I didn't grow up in a particularly modest household.

I saw both of my parents naked when I was a kid.

We talked about anything and everything.

And we were never taught to be ashamed of our bodies.

But once we reached a certain age, some things, like the ones that happen in the bathroom, were always private.

Always. Always. Always.

So it's not surprising that I feel a tad bit self-conscious on weekends when I'm catching up on my blog reading while on the potty (because, really, when else am I going to find the time?), and my daughter takes it upon herself to yank the door open so my husband can catch a glimpse of me in all my glory.

Remind me to get that lock fixed.

But nothing could possibly make me squirm more than the scene that happened at a play date the other day.

I've already told you about the infamous play date that a woman in my neighborhood hosts every week, and how the state of her house makes me cringe a little every time I go.

If you missed that post, you can read it HERE.

Admittedly, I've been making other plans on the days she hosts the play date lately as I need a break from the whole thing, but every once in a while I feel obliged to go.

And last week was one of those times.

When we (begrudgingly) arrived, a few of the other moms were already there, and they were talking about potty training.

Some of the kids in our little group have mastered it.

Others have no interest in it.

And the kid who belongs to the chick that hosts our weekly play date is mid-potty training as I type this post.

When I initially heard this news, I cheered with the rest of the gang. I mean, what's more exciting than saying goodbye to diapers, wipes, and that horrible thing they call a "Diaper Genie"?

But then I noticed a potty in the middle of the play area.

And then I noticed The Boy was walking around with nothing but a tee-shirt on.

And in the 85 minutes and 23.5 seconds that we were there, he sat on the potty to pee at least 5 times.

Now, I know what you're thinking.

You're wondering what the big deal is, right?

Well, the big deal, to me anyway, is that his mother never emptied the potty, never washed his hands, and never put underpants, pull-ups, diapers, or pants on the kid.

That's right.

He spent the entire play date naked from the waist down.

And every time I looked over at him, it seemed like his "stuff" was touching something.

The couch.

The floor.

The play kitchen my daughter enjoys playing with.


But the other moms didn't seem to mind, and my daughter showed absolutely ZERO interest in checking out the potty (or playing with that toy kitchen), so I found it in myself to swallow the bile in the back of my throat, let my daughter have a good time, and carry on a conversation with the other moms.

And then it happened.

The Boy announced he had to poo.

And all of the moms (myself included) suddenly had to get their kids home for lunch.


I guess I'm not the only one who was a little grossed out by the whole thing.

I think I'll wait until he's fully potty trained (and clothed) before I return for another play date.

What's your take on this? Do you potty train in the middle of the living room when you have company over, or do you take it upstairs to the bathroom? And is clothing optional?


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