Actually, gross does not accurately describe what I just dealt with.
OH. MY. LORD. THAT. IS. GROSS!!!
is a much better description.
Let me back up a bit.
Dude is potty training. I went to Chicago a few weeks ago and came back to a little boy that no longer wanted to wear diapers. He had suddenly “gotten it” and has basically done all the hard work.
There have been no sticker charts, M&M bribes, no set timers.
He grabs his crotch, screams at the top of his lungs “I HAVE TO PEE!!” and goes running for the bathroom. The only work involved is me putting him on top of our old person/orthapedic/raised toilet that even I can’t touch the floor when sitting on.
He has even pooped on the potty. His only poop involved accidents have consisted of sharting and a few skid marks. But hey, isn’t that a right of passage for boys… at least it has been for his brother and his father.
UNTIL THIS MORNING!!!!
Dude says to me: I have to poop. We walk to the bathroom, get in position, and he tells me nevermind. I assume he has gas, false alarm.
Five minutes later he screams at the top of his lungs POOP!!
I panic. This is for real. We better make it cuz I don’t want to clean this up.
Long story short.
We didn’t make it.
stop reading here if you have a weak stomach or you know how the story goes. keep reading if you are considering having children in the near future… this may be a bit of birth control.
He pooped in his Bubba’s (that he borrowed) Thomas the Tank Engine Blue Underware. (this is a big deal because Bubba’s only stipulation for Dude putting these on was that he not get poop on them. Oh Sacred Thomas Underpants.
At least it is contained, right?
This was the most massive (and very liquidy) dump I have ever seen come out of this child. It gushed down his legs. He freaked and jumped. The largest portion fell out and onto the floor. It stunk. BAD! Dude’s legs were streaked. The stuff was everywhere. Bubba was freaking about Thomas. He calmed enough to give a play by play, though.
Then Bubba barfed.
There are many more graphic details I could share about the texture, scent, how the dog tried to help clean up, but I will spare you the details.
I will tell you this, though. I have just had the most productive 45 minutes Of. My. Life. I have bathed both boys, cleaned the bathroom, scrubbed the floor (everything happened on the hardwood and tile- further proof there is a God with a sense of humor), started a load of laundry and written this blog post.