Silly PoopyBoy. I don't know what happens in your little baby head. You start to get sleepy. Your bowels relax maybe. You are, possibly, comforted by the warm sensation in your diaper. You fall asleep.
You wake up with a serious case of red-ass. You are a grumplestiltskin for the rest of the day. Wouldn't it be easier to leave the poopies for a time when we can take care of it? You've caused your mom to collect a witch's brew of butt potions on her breakfast bar. I'd rather put cookies or potpourri up there. It's a lot more homey and attractive.
Let's work on that, okay?
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