Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Fountains and Loaves

"Daddy. I have a problem...."

My daughter looked coyly at me. She wanted to tell me something but also didn't feel like she could. Then she told me her teacher says she isn't supposed to say things about bums and poo. I told her it was fine - she can talk to me about anything. Except of course what it is that Anne Widdecombe thinks about when she masturbates (I'm guessing it's a combination pigeons, Sister Wendy and The Wiggles). That's off limits. I didn't tell her the last bit though, and hopefully it will never come up. Then my daughter softly mumbled, "Daddy, sometimes when I poo it doesn't all come out." I said okay - do you mean some gets stuck on it's way out or you can tell there's some left that didn't make the effort? She said, "some doesn't come out and I have to go again two seconds later." I told her that was okay. Then I realized that she thought she was doing it wrong. So I assured her it was the way I do it sometimes. I made a joke about how I would poshly say, "Pardon me everyone - I have to.." and then I'd add a ridiculous euphemism that makes no sense, before popping into the bathroom. Something like, "I have to take my canoe to the pet store.." and then go. My daughter likde this very much. She particularly liked, "pardon me - I have to see a man about a log." Then after that I made a big song and dance by saying I was all done and felt much better but then alarming said, "Oops! I'll be back in a second!" and ran away.

Which we then played for twenty minutes. And by played I mean my daughter asked me to go with her while she had a poo so she could narrate the whole incident. My daughter is definitely still sick because the smell is ungodly. The window has been open since 10.30 and I swear it still reeks in there. Whatever it is that skunks think smells - it's worse than that.

After A LOT of hand washing and sterilizing we came out and I prompted my daughter to go play a game that didn't involve poo. Glancing at my son I could see that determined look on his face. Very much a mark of the times I could see it said, "Challenge Accepted." Two minutes later I was upstairs trying to carefully peel off his pants without getting it everywhere. I want you to know that he was wearing lined-jeans for winter and it still managed to soak through. I can only describe the amount as an heroic quantity. I have this particular activity down pat now - he may be very much an underpants wearing little boy but he doesn't have the bowel control he wishes he had. I had my two wet cloths to wipe him up with and was already anesthetized by his sister's Mutant Log Of Death.

Or so I thought. There was no form. And it seemed to be designed by 3M - meaning it kind of stuck to things but any movement and it just fell off. The floor below him is something I usually can keep clean. Gravity and the difficult trajectory see to that normally. Not today. The entire back of legs down to his knees were caked in it. I held his ankles up and started cleaning. It started to drip in thick globules faster than I was prepared for. I tried to keep up. Then I realized the awful truth - I simply don;t have enough cloth to be able to let him go safe in the knowledge he won;t just roll around in his own crap and then try and make a break for it. Shit - literally. So I did my best and stuck a towel underneath him so he wouldn't at least plonk back onto his "overflow." Then I stunned him by quickly pouring a small cup of water on his head and legged it to grab more cloths. When I got back he was on his feet and tried to run past me. At that very moment I committed to the fact that I would not be wearing the clothes I had on for the remainder of the day. I picked him up off the floor and he monkey-hugged me with his still-shitty legs. His unusually warm but mostly clean bottom pressed into my hip. "Thanks buddy" I said. And then he tried to kiss me to say thanks too. And I let him. Then I lay him down and cleaned him up good.

In the end it took four cloths to clean him and the floor up. A new record and prompted me to clean the floor afterwards with Lysol bleach and leave that bathroom window open too.

Now, as long as my wife doesn't need changing today I think I'm done with poo for the day.

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