A New Pair of Yodas

  So, my darling son decided that at the ripe age of 18 months he was ready to begin potty training. We were coming in from playing outside when he frantically grabbed his crotch and croaked out "POTTY!" in the voice of urgency that only toddlers can make. Chris and I looked at each other for confirmation that we'd heard correctly, because we'd never put Jace on the potty and certainly hadn't tried to teach him that word. We ran him in and sat him down and to our surprise, he actually went. There's never been a bigger celebration over five drops of pee in the history of ever. Dancing, singing, stickers, mini parades, hand washing, all of the typical crazy parent-ness.
  Jace is like most kids, and wants to repeat anything he receives praise for as many times as possible, so all of this excitement backfired into many, many unfruitful trips to the bathroom. It has also become a new outlet for battles of will. Because, of course you have to hold your toothbrush while peeing, and of course you have to wipe for five minutes with exactly three squares of paper, and of course you can only pee in the farthest bathroom upstairs even though you're already downstairs. Potty training is parent slave labor. I answer to every beck and call of that child's bladder, whether fantastical or not. And there are definitely times I rationalize stalling thinking that he "just went", quickly followed by a spray bottle of cleaning solution and the walk of shame to the puddle.
   Call me crazy, but I never realized that men consider their "boy parts" to be a separate entity from this age. The first time I gave Jace a star sticker for going pee while he was naked he immediately stuck it to his boy bits...because "We're a team, yo". After a few goes with boy-bits stickering, I'm now a pro and wait until he's fully dressed to present his stickers. Now they go on my face more often than him, which does sort of make it feel like I'm an equally valuable team player in all of this training....well, equal to his boy bits at least.
  I'm proud of Jace for deciding to do something so grown up this early, and I must say that cleaning the up the contents of an 18 month old's bladder is much more manageable then cleaning up after a almost three year old's. But I'm still a little shocked every time that he is successfully out of a diaper for any length of time. The first time I put him in underwear he was mortified that I'd put two pairs of shorts on him at the same time, so Aria and I both had to show him that we were wearing underwear as well to calm him down. This led to some embarassing encounters where he'd try to pull my pants down around company to show them that underwear is normal and that he isn't some sort of oddball for wearing it. Luckily I have some very accepting friends, and am always wearing panties.
  Our current parent dilemma is what to call our son's new underwear. Chris feels that calling them underwear is too straightforward and grown up. "Big boy panties" doesn't quite do it, and the slang "undies" makes me cringe every time so we are at a standstill.  Oh, the silly debates you will have as parents. We bought him a set of Starwars young man pantaloons, so Chris threw around the idea of calling them "Yoda's". Please someone, recommend something fast!