Training Euphemism With Kellie Coo

Do you see that fabulously curly-haired child in that red tea cup?

That is my youngest sister Kellie. Now 18 years old, Kellie is a beautiful college girl with the world at her fingertips.

But she used to be that tiny dreamboat in the tea cup.

The be-banged girl sitting next to her is my second-to-youngest sister Carlie. A couple years older than Kellie, Carlie is someone who tries hard to be supportive—especially when she feels like their goals are worthy.

One of the sweetest things Carlie has ever done for Kellie started in the bathroom. Carlie sat in front of that tiny Kellie, then learning to potty train, and "read" to her. The books that Carlie had brought in were about bears (Berenstain bears or something like that); since Carlie didn't know how to read for realsies, she made up her own stories to go along with the pictures.

Those imagined stories featured a bear named Kellie Coo. And because Carlie is one of the most creative and fantasy-minded people I know, she was able to come up with mind-blowing adventures for Kellie Coo to experience. I distinctly remember standing outside of the bathroom, listening to what was going to happen to Kellie Coo next.

Ever since that time, I have associated Kellie Coo with potty training. I knew that when I started potty training my kids, Kellie Coo stories would abound from my not-so-creative mind; I do not anticipate that my stories will be as well received as Carlie's, but we all have our talents.

A few days ago, we gave potty training another college try with Jacko. Whenever he sat on the toilet, I would regale him with a Kellie Coo story. My favorite one also featured Carla Berry, Julia Schmulia, Shell Bell, and Holly Dolly (a.k.a. my sisters Carlie, Julie, Shelley, and me); one of the nice things about having a large family of sisters is that you don't have to think too hard about character names.

The potty training fell apart. And probably the worst part about that, for me, is that I have to stick to my guns about the specialness of Kellie Coo—I was having fun telling those stories, and now we have to wait until the next time I decide to attempt that specific torture. Feel free to let me live vicariously through you and tell your own Kellie Coo stories.

Do you have potty training traditions?

Or maybe some secrets to share with this struggling mama?