Let me not forget that I need be humble toward aforementioned pediatrician.
During our conversation about R, M (who was on the floor) said "potty." Clearly. I glanced at him while Dr. kept talking to me.
"Potty." M said again. I nodded at him- and the Dr.- and internally begged M to wait just a minute.
"Potty!" M exclaimed again.
"Excuse me. I really need to take him to the restroom." I interjected.
"Is he saying 'potty'?" the Dr. asked, incredulously. He looked down and probably noticed that M had an underwear band sticking out of his pants.
"Yes." I said, knowing that I needed to take M immediately. "I need to take him." At least I already knew where the restroom was- we'd been there once already and so had two other Curtis kids.
I told the Dr. we would be right back, picked up M, and vaguely saw something fall out of his pants and onto the floor. (yes! oh, yes.)
We made it to the bathroom (late) and yet still had most on the potty. I put fresh unders on M, we washed hands, and returned to the Dr.
He was quite impressed, I think.