No Tax Deduction Please!

Dagny finally discovered the potty over the holiday break. She went straight for the big one, attached to the pipes. We had the little potties left over from Valerie's potty transition, two years ago. I guess watching her older sister and being blessed with longer legs than her sibling, she completely ignored the tot-sized crappers.

Works for me.

Having allowed the potty progress to continue for nearly three weeks, I finally decided I'd had enough of those dirty little potties. Yes, we used them in our house, but only as stepping stools. Sometimes the kids would hid things inside, much to my dismay. Yesterday, I battled internally, "Should I continue to shelter these dirty plastic potty-slash-stools? Or, should I donate these and shell out the ten bucks to purchase real stools that don't double as potties."

I opted to purge the dirty crappers. Despite cleaning them, or trying to clean them, the thought of these potties is just grotesque.

I carefully packed the potties into plastic bags and placed them in my car. I drove directly to Goodwill. I had tried to dispose of our crusty old highchair at Goodwill, but was informed they do not accept baby items. This time, with the potties in tow, I wasn't sure if this donation qualified as a baby item or not. I crossed my fingers and hoped they would accept the bags. If it weren't for the security camera to discourage dumping, I would have left my offerings after dark for fear that I would again be turned away.

When the Goodwill donation receiver met me halfway to the drop-off area, I practically threw these potties at him. He didn't ask about the contents of the bags. Instead, he robotically asked, "Do you need a receipt for these?"

I had already turned back toward my car (which was still running). Over my shoulder, I retorted, "No, not this time. No tax deduction here. But thanks anyway!"

It felt like I sprinted toward my car, though I tried to appear calm. I feared that as he peered into those bags, he would turn back and run toward me with the bags exclaiming, "Miss, sorry but we can't accept these items! Miss, please come back!"

So, I found my way into the car, and drove away as quickly as possible, trying not to screech the tires on the pavement. Valerie noted my expedited departure, "Mommy, why are you going so fast!"

Because it feels so good to have purged those potties, honey!