The cozy bathroom glowed beneath a warm ceiling light. Andy dropped onto his potty and gripped the seat with both hands. His feet planted firmly on the warm tile while the stubborn poop refused to come out. Above him, the bathroom fan hummed.
From the doorway, Mom clapped softly. “You can try, Andy!” she called. Andy glanced toward her, then held the seat tighter. The fan hummed, clap-clap, and the quiet bathroom waited with him.
Andy leaned forward and blew slow pretend candles. “Foooo,” he whispered, cheeks puffing gently. Then he tried again as Mom counted, “One… two… three!” His toes pressed against the tile, and his eyes stayed fixed on the potty.
A tiny squeak escaped. “Eep!” Andy froze, eyes wide and mouth open. Mom smiled from the doorway. “Was that you?” she asked. Andy listened carefully, as if the little sound might squeak again.
Andy sat taller and chose a new plan: relax, breathe, and wait. He loosened his grip and watched the toilet-paper roll. One careful tap made it wobble. The roll seemed to whisper, “Not yet.”
Suddenly, the toilet-paper roll spun wildly. A long white ribbon raced across the floor. Andy giggled and reached toward the curling paper without leaving the potty. Waiting felt much less difficult now.
Andy steadied both feet and listened to Mom’s gentle cheering. He took one slow breath. Then he gave one final push. “Plop!” The sound landed clearly in the potty.
Andy threw both hands into the air. Mom cheered, “You did it all by yourself!” Andy stared into the potty, then pointed proudly at the result. “Plop,” he said, giving the word a triumphant little echo.
Andy reached for the handle and flushed. Water swirled with a cheerful roar. He watched until the bowl was clear, then waved goodbye to the finished job. The bathroom fan hummed above the rushing water.
At the sink, Andy scrubbed his hands until soap made a mountain of bubbles. Foam climbed over his fingers and dripped into the basin. He rinsed, shook his hands twice, and watched the last bubbles pop.