It's the little things

Nothing breaks up the monotony of xeroxing like little anecdotes like this one (gleaned from a text for a Theories of Psych class):

His father was a naval officer, and Martin's favorite form of plat was floating his toy boats in the bathtub and torpedoiung them. Both parents had become frustrated with Martin because he consistently expelled his feces in his pants and not in the toilet. In desperation, they offered him twenty-five cents for every bowel movement he made in the toilet. Martin soon caluclated that it was not in his best interst to become toilet trained, because to do so would mean that he would ultimately lose money. Instead he would use the toilet for three days to earn the money. But the only way to keep the money flowing was to lose control periodically, and this he would do at home or at the homes of friends. One day, Martin's best friend'smother instisted that, at her house, he use the toilet. There she overheard him muttering to himself about Napoleon's battles. When he came out of the bathroom he informed her, "I'm Napoleon and Napoleon shits wherever he pleases!"

I am so cross-stiching "Napoleon shits wherever he pleases" on a sampler to go above the cat's litter box.