Revenge of the Terds

The day we were leaving for Grandpa's funeral, I was in charge of getting everything ready ie. kids, me, bags, car etc.

I was doing good, ahead of schedule. I put the kids in their respected rooms, Coop in his crib and Chloe in her room WITH baby gate as so she does not escape.

I'm calling the hotel to confirm our reservation. I take a shower. I begin the long tedious process of doing my hair.

Now Coop has been whinning for a good 30 minutes. He usually whines when he is in bed and isn't tired. He doesn't scream just an annoying whine that I can ignore very very well because it is the same whine I ignore while still in bed in the morning.

I open his door and notice rocks on the floor. My thoughts. "Hmm, that's weird. How did rocks get on the floor. Hmm." *open door beyond a crack* "HOLY COW! That is the smell of something not of the Lord!"

It is then I realize the rocks are not rocks at all, but rock shaped terds, tossed out by some little boy in his bed. I look at Coop and it is then I realize my sweet child, whom I delivered and carried for nine months. The one whose toes I love to nibble, whose smile melts me..

... that child was.. *taking a deep long breath... letting it out in a somber sigh*... a poop launcher.

That child of Matt's, he became Matt's son, had removed his diaper, pooped in his bed, smeered it like paint on his white canvas of a sheet, tossed out the 'ball terds' and then decided his 'canvas' wasn't enough... He used himself as canvas. Oh what a lovely sight and smell.

I noticed a yellow/brown color on the crib slates, on the bed, on his feet, top and bottom, on his arms, hands, fingers, toes, cheeks and yes in his mouth. *another long deep breath.... letting it out with a tear and a cringe, thinking about bleach*

I do what any normal mother would do, I grab the video camera. I'd show you but there is a crotch shot and this is a G rated blog, sometimes PG, but today it is G.

Then I grabbed the camera and then I begin doing what any normal mother does, I call the husband and father of this child. He does what any normal father does, says, "SICK!!"

Then I begin clean-up. I remove the rocks, start the bath all the while thinking, "I JUST GOT CLEANED!" I stand in the tub and 'bathe' Coop, using our soap which is just a nub of a bar. You know the little sliver of soap that remains because neither husband nor wife remembers to get a new bar before entering the shower and so the nub wears down until someone finally yells, "Honey! Can you get me some soap?"

I put the nub on Coop's head, because of course he is an equal opportunity poop smearer and he dare not leave out the hair. I go to rub the nub on his scalp and it sticks. The whole nub is in his hair. I rinse and rinse and rinse and rinse until the nub disappears. Then I slide him up and down the tub to wash his man parts. Then I drain. Then I decide not to fill the tub but to use running water so the poo is exiting the tub.

He is clean and goes in Chloe's gated community. Then I clean the room/crib. I would have left it if poop didn't smell or if Matt were almost home.

I grab bleach and carpet cleaner. I wipe the crib slates and step in something quite moist. I notice Matt's son had not only pooped but peed all over the room. *long deep breath and a sigh*

I toss everything in the wash, add bleach and turn it on boiling hot. When it is done, poop speckles remained, so I tossed it all.

What do you think the diaper looked like?