I’ve chosen this picture of Britney (bitch) because I feel it accurately conveys my level of horrified, nauseated, and double chin-ness right now. Just when you think you’ve seen it all as a parent, today happens.
I was sitting on the couch, taking a break from
not accomplishing too much being Super Mom. Zoë was watching Secret of the Wings. Zoë wandered upstairs for a few minutes, which isn’t unusual. I was distracted because I really wanted to find out why summer and spring fairies and winters fairies weren’t allowed to cross worlds. (Okay, seriously, after you’ve had the movie on several times, you can only go for so long ignoring it before you get curious. Stop judging me!) After a few minutes, Zoë came trotting back down with an upset look on her face. I noticed she had something brown near her mouth. I thought maybe she had thrown up because she hadn’t been feeling great the past couple of days. So I wiped her mouth and, after chasing her around Mike’s recliner, led her upstairs to clean up. About halfway up the stairs I noticed she didn’t have her diaper on. I lifted her dress and I saw it. The rest of where the brown had come from.
You guys, I have never been so horrified in my life. My. Daughter. Ate. Poo. POO! I’m not typically all that squeamish. It kind of takes a good deal to shock me. I honestly stood there for a good minute on those stairs because I just couldn’t make words. I finally asked her if she ate her poo. She said yes, opened wide, and pointed to her mouth. Needless to say, there was thorough hand and face washing and vigorous teeth brushing. I asked her where her diaper was, but she wouldn’t tell me. It became a great game to her. She just giggled maniacally as she led me from room to room going, Oh, it not ‘ere. While it appears as though she managed to put her pull-up in the diaper pail, she did leave behind her “how in the fuck do children make such large poos?” poo in the middle of Rachael’s floor.
I guess I should search to see if there’s anything I should do because, you know, she ingested a disease-ridden….substance? Of course, you know who will be the one who actually gets the stomach flu because of this. You know, I think I’ll file this under stories to tell her husband right after they’re married. Because someday, we’re all going to laugh about this. Someday.