While many of you cloth diapering parents are still dealing with dirty diapers and possibly potty-training, listen carefully--your relationship with your child's bodily functions does not end with potty training. It changes, it becomes less "hands on," so to speak, but it lingers on...and on. My girls are six and nine. They are fully self-sufficient going to the bathroom, including "dropping the kids off at the pool." However, while the kids do make it to the pool, they usually don't get flushed. Quite often another family member gets a bit of a foul surprise the next time they need to use the loo, so I wrote a little poem called "Please Flush, Frankie!" Unfortunately, it hasn't helped them remember to flush, but it has brought a little humor to an otherwise stinky situation.  

Please Flush, Frankie!

Little Frank was a handsome tot, He ate and slept and pooped a lot. He lived with his mom and dad and sister who Was three years old, named Sally Sue.

Frank still wore diapers and needed help But Sally Sue used the potty herself. Soon after Frankie had turned one, He sat on the toilet just for fun.

And on the day that he turned two, He sat on the pot and made a poo. His family cheered and clapped their hands. They all said Frank was quite advanced.

By three years old he’d grown quite tall And didn’t wear a dipe at all. And Sally Sue at almost six, Had mastered all the big kid tricks.

She could read and write and tie her shoes And she never forgot to flush the loo. But when Frankie had to go He’d call for Mom or Dad like so:

“Mommy, Daddy! I need help! I can’t get on the pot myself!” So Mom or Dad would run to see If Little Frankie had to pee

(And if Frankie, dearest son, had to do more than Number One, They stayed to help him wipe his buns).

One year later at four years old Frank was taller and quite bold. He didn’t need to call for help And did his business by himself.

Now Frankie always washed his hands, But almost everyone understands The second most important part Is to flush before you depart.

But Frankie was a busy boy And Sally Sue was most annoyed When she went in to use the pot And had Frank flushed? He had not.

She’d plug her nose, her eyes would water, She’d wish she’d been an only daughter. She’d spray perfume on a hankie And then yell “PLEASE FLUSH FRANKIE!”

The next day, his Mom, named Rose, Went to the john to powder her nose. Once inside she began to wheeze— Fumes had brought her to her knees.

She coughed and gagged and nearly choked. Was Frankie playing a horrible joke? Why most folks would surely blush If they had forgotten to flush!

But then two days later Frankie’s pop, Went to clean the bathroom floor with a mop. But oh my goodness! How it stank! And he bellowed “Please flush, Frank!”

Soon Frankie’s family hatched a plan To help him remember to flush the can. If Frankie wouldn't flush, neither would they! And they decided to start the very next day.

When Frankie wanted to float his boat In the bathtub, just like a moat, He banged on the door and disturbed his sister Who smiled and said “It’s all yours, mister.”

(What Frankie saw he would not say. But his boats did not sail that day).

That night, looking for his toothbrush, Frank discovered his mom hadn’t flushed. It must have been a terrible sight ‘Cause Frankie had nightmares all that night.

The next morning Frank felt ill. The image was burned in his memory still. He hoped the pot was sparkling clean When out walked his Dad with a magazine.

Frankie had hardly made it in When his head began to spin. What he saw that day changed him forever. Did he ever forget to flush again? Never!

Wipe your buns, pull up your pants and Don’t forget to wash your hands. But even if you’re in a rush, Before you leave, PLEASE FLUSH.

Numbers One and Two are Fine, But to Always Flush? Divine!