Friday, March 23, 2007

The Crappy Day Continues: Part II of the Epic Series, "A Really Crappy Day"

(Be sure to read "A Really Crappy Day: Part I" first)

The whole way home Addison voiced her opinion about stewing in her own... stew.
The stench coming from the back of my jeep was strong enough to make me question whether I might have, without noticing, pooped in my pants, too. I put down the windows and raced home.

The squish I felt in Ella's pants as I unloaded her from her car seat told me she had, indeed, been doing some unloading herself. I unlocked the door, threw Ella in the house, and went back for poopy child II.

Cleaning up Addison was going to be the more complicated job, so I went after Ella first. She was tearing around the house like some sort of wild beast (with poop in its pants), so the first order of business was to catch her. Clotheslining her as she did laps around the downstairs is usually the most effective way of capturing the child, so I went for it. Once wrangled, I pulled Ella into the bathroom so she could sit on her little plastic potty to finish the job while I cleaned up Addison. When I pulled down Ella's pants, though, a giant clump of poop leaped from her underwear and landed on the bathroom floor. While Addison continued to scream from her carrier in the hallway, Ella started chanting, "Please I see that poop, please I see that poop, please I see that poop," as she struggled to get her still unwiped buns around me to catch a glimpse of the turd resting on the bathroom floor. I tried to snatch up the poo with a wad of toilet paper before Ella could get to it, but it toppled out on its way to the bowl. Excited by these developments, Ella worked herself into a frenzy of "Please I see it's." I grabbed that turd off the floor and, before she could get her paws on it, chucked it into the toilet. "Please, I see it," Ella whimpered one last time. Looking at her own excrement would at least occupy Ella while I took care of her sister, so I told her to wipe and granted her wish by stepping out of the way so she could gaze at the floater to her heart's content.

By now Addison had reached silent scream status. Her face had turned bright red, her mouth was open, and she was quivering as if to scream, but there wasn't any sound coming out... yet. Like revving your engine before racing, the silent scream prepares a child for glass-shattering sound she is about to unleash. What finally came out of her mouth did not disappoint. I grabbed the banshee, stripped her down and, in an attempt to save the carpet, tossed her poop laden clothing onto the adjoining room's hardwood floor, where at least any overflow could be simply wiped up. I used the other hand to hold up her legs and most of her backside, which was also covered in poop. After a couple of quick wipes I deemed her clean enough to touch without gloves, and slapped on a new diaper. I somehow managed to find her bottle and get it in her mouth before ALL of the windows in my house were shattered by her super sonic screaming. The wailing ceased, and I sunk into the couch with my mostly naked baby. Meanwhile...

Be sure not to miss "Seriously, Could This Day Get Any Crappier: Part III" (oh yes, it gets EVEN worse)! If you would like to be notified by email when new stories are posted, enter your email address in the subscription box to the right.

1 comment:

  1. Man, why do kids do that? I have three and it never failed that they would poop at the worst times. My No. 2 child (no pun intended) was the worst. Our first excursion out with him and Child No. 1 to Chuck E. Cheese resulted in my child pooping all over himself, me and the changing table. The only change of clothes for him in the diaper bag was a plain white onesie. Then, on a road trip from Texas to Florida, he exploded at some roadside diner. I had used all my wet wipes and didn't have an extra set of clothes for him with me (they were buried in the car) and thankfully the many moms in the bathroom helped me with wet papertowels and to help me retrieve my husband.

    These days will pass, rest assured. Now, my children are all potty trained. Now, they just puke at the worst times. Something to look forward to for you. :)