It always comes back to poop – why, oh why??? I’m pretty sure the good Lord has a good sense of humor; He’s trying to teach me a lesson for thinking all things poop are funny. I no longer hold the opinion that all things poop related are funny – although, maybe they are still a little funny after the fact. After last night, however, I think I need a substantial recovery period to look back at it with humor.
Timmy was filthy when I picked him up at daycare, so I took his shirt and shorts off and left him in just a onesie for the ride home. We, Timmy and I, were driving home happily from our long day at daycare and work. He was relaxing with Lightening McQueen and the gang from Cars, and I was lost in my own little thoughts. It’s about a 30 minute drive home each day. We were 5 minutes from home and this is the conversation that took place:
Timmy: “I got poop on there.”
Me: “You got poop on where?”
Timmy: “On Timmy’s foot.”
Me: “What?”
Timmy: “Poop on Timmy’s foot.”
At this point, a turn around and a look-see was required. I didn’t see any poop.
Timmy: “I got poop on Timmy’s foot.”
Me: “I don’t see any poop.”
Timmy: “Uh-huh, poop. I got poop on there.”
Timmy held up his left index finger, and it was then that I spotted a chunk from the rear-view mirror.
“Holy Crap, he’s got crap on his finger,” was my immediate reaction. It was then that I got a whiff of it too. I am 2 minutes from home at this point, so I had to make the decision whether to stop or to keep going and clean it at home. I decided to clean it at home and risk the speeding ticket. (It is a good thing too; I didn’t have enough wipes in the car to clean it all up and I would have been on the side of the road in tears.) I pulled into garage and did what I could with the wipes, then took him inside. He tried to sneak away the moment I set him down, but I was faster than him. I took his diaper off and cleaned him with the wipes I keep in the mud room for emergency uses. Then, because I didn’t want to carry him upstairs, I put him in the mud room sink and cleaned him off using hand soap and a clean onesie as my washcloth. Throughout the whole process, Timmy was remained calm and my nerves were on their last inch.
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4 comments:
Oh poop.
That's all I got.
Been there, my friend. Many times.
Yup. My middle name as well.
Sweetpea likes to come at me with poop on her finger, too. It is then that I don't want to check the rest of her.
UGH!
HANDS OUT OF THE POOP, PEOPLE! And PASS ME THE GARDEN HOSE!
"Holy crap he has crap on his foot!" LOL
Been there too many times...
I am oh so glad that I am past those days!
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