Poem Number 5: Potty Training (Another Sonnet in Iambic Pentameter)

Potty Training

You sit atop your plastic throne of green–
the cutest toilet that I’ve ever seen–
with YouTube nonsense blaring from my phone
(for this, of course, you want to be alone).

You’ve got to make a poop eventually
though maybe it’s okay if you just pee
as long as it’s not drenching my poor floor
like yesterday and the two days before.

Your brother won’t stop bugging you (and me)–
he thinks he’ll be rewarded if you pee–
he dreams of multicolored jellybeans
and yesterday he wet his big-boy jeans.

But then: a grunt, a whiff, and you’re so proud
because you know that you’re a big kid now.