So, the Duke is officially potty-trained.
I wasn’t keen on waiting until he was three years old to master this skill, but it was honestly the best decision. It was MUCH easier waiting until he was ready. For the last couple of days, we’ve managed that last hurdle of training (numero dos, people) and the matter is now settled. And how do I know this, you ask? Well, the Duke told me so.
“I’m a Pooper!!” he exclaimed proudly today.
It was, my friends, music to my ears.
Thus concludes my brief blogging foray into pottyworld, at least for two more years.