I’ve seen all kinds of checklists of how you can tell if your child is read to be potty trained. Does he stay dry for long periods of time? Does he show interest in using the toilet? Has he become intolerant towards wet or messy diapers? Does he behave strangely when he’s about to unleash the fury of his adult-smelling bowels?

Pop quiz - What's the one aspect of parenting that paralyzes me with fear?

Sleep deprivation? No.

Breast milk vs. formula? Nope.

Back to work or stay at home? Wrong again.

Gathering everything that I considered "fun" from my bachelor days, stuffing it into cardboard box, topping the lot with oil-soaked rags and setting fire to it deep in the woods (figuratively, of course)? No, but that's a good one.

It's potty training.

Do people frequently ask you what super power you'd choose if you ever had the option? It seems like this question comes up way too often in conversation. I can rarely think of a good answer and so my "life of the party" reputation is regularly put in jeopardy.

Not anymore. I will forevermore dazzle my friends at play dates and freshman mixers now that I've come up with the best superpowers ever. I want a highly-directional periscopic nose and extendable lips. These are powers I never would have dreamed of until becoming a mother.

When I was just a boy in Pennsylvania, I looked for certain familiar signs that foretold the arrival of summer: a robin in the yard, green shoots pushing through the soil, the swirling ceiling fan in my bedroom...(By the way, all those things do is move the hot air rapidly around the room, essentially converting your home into a giant convection oven).

Now that I'm a parent, I notice the change in season by other means.

The first sign of summer, parent-style, arrived while I was at work last week. My phone rang. I heard my wife’s voice on the line and, behind that, a sound that I couldn't quite identify. It was far away, but steady.

"Hello," I said.

"Your daughter needs you," my wife said.

"Okay," I said. There was a momentary rustling on the other end, and the unusual sound suddenly grew louder. By the time Grace spoke, I recognized it as her own wailing.

"Daddy?" she said, catching her breath.

"Yes, honey? What's the matter?"