So, I sometimes (not often but sometimes) feel like I am totally on top of this whole parenting thing, like I am a sippy cup slinging, non-serial killer raising, pro.
Other times... Not. So. Much.
Yesterday was one of the other times. It's been deliciously hot around here, which means playing outside is a go. And that makes for a sweaty, sunscreened, dirt-encrusted-in-the-creases-of-his-eyelids baby.
Normally we're pretty lackadaisical about bath time, figuring that dirt is good and that the dog usually gets the big stuff with her tongue (I jest... sort of) but in the hot weather baths are a more frequent occurrence.
Which is what makes yesterday's "event" kind of worse for me. It was a rookie mistake and I've been in training.
So, I poured a bath, popped down the non-slip thingies, added some bubbles, agitated. Tra la la.
Then I went to hunt down the bear, "bath time" I informed him and he gamely trotted to the bathroom. Where I whipped his shorts and tee off. Then, and here's where I went wrong, I whipped his dipe off and slid him in to the tub in one smooth movement.
Slash splash. Teddy patted the water and shouted at his tubby toys, I filled up the jug to pour over his hair.
Then I spotted it.
"Dude" I pondered aloud "what is THAT?"
But I knew what it is.
Floating in the general posterior area of my kid was a rather enormous poop.
I checked my impulse to dry heave then whipped Teddy out of the tub,
"Did you go poops?" I asked him. In answer he swiftly cycled through bemusement and incredulousness to screaming fury at being removed from his toys.
No he hadn't pooped in the tub, he had pooped in his dipe like a civilised fellow, but some bozo had neglected to check for poop before placing him into the tub. also DUH.
So, my son thinks I'm clown shoes and I got poop under my fingernails. I will remember to check from now on. I can't really remember where I was going with this story, but you're welcome for making your day a little grosser.