Ask any parent about bowel movements and you are sure to get lots of stories. I have been pooped on by all of my children. I have cleaned poop out of car seats, off furniture, off the floor, out of beds. I have carried children with poop covered legs through Target, Wal-Mart, and Kroger. I’ve dragged them, pants half down and poop everywhere from the park. I’ve made the mistake of feeding a baby prunes and then sitting him in the exersaucer so that five minutes later he was slipping and sliding in it with glee.
When the twins were babies they slept in the same crib for a long time. One morning I went in to check on them and found them each covered in poop. They had also painted the rails of the crib and the wall next to it. The next night they slept in separate cribs.
On more than one occasion I remember the distinct scent of poop in the car and looking back to find John eating it. Yes, I said eating it. He would stick his little hands in his diaper and then stick those hands in his mouth. He always looked really disgusted, like after you drink sour milk. But, he kept his fingers in his mouth. He was committed.
He also once ate a whole tube of slut-red lipstick. I worked in a physician’s office at the time and had to wear white pants to work. When that lipstick came out the other end it was a disaster. Not only was it bright red, but it was greasy and slimy. Of course, it came out just as I was leaving to drop them at daycare and head to work. I had to strip down to my underwear to clean it up. (The last thing I wanted was to get slut-red lipstick on my white pants.) Imagine if someone had walked in on me right then? In my underwear, cleaning up bloody-looking poop from the floor and from my 2-year-old son. Hello, child protective services we’ve got on for you! (This was the point in my life when I stopped wearing slut-red lipstick. I’ll let you know when I start again, I’m sure it is right around the corner.)
When Jackson and Reese were potty training I got the brilliant idea to let them run around with no pants, to make them aware of their movements. We referred to it as our ‘pants optional’ period. It did not work as I had expected. I thought the boys would feel the poop coming and run to the potty. Instead, they felt it coming and just dropped it off wherever they happened to be at that moment. Including the top of Taryn’s dresser, the living room floor, and in the toy box.
I thought I had seen it all.
Today, I sent Jackson to school. He had not vomited since Saturday and seemed to feel better. He was still a little wimpy, but I figured he just needed to refuel. I big bowl of Life cereal with milk would help that out.
That was probably my first mistake.
I picked them up after school and we decided we would head to the park for the afternoon. We went home to grab a blanket and pack lunch. I told them both to go potty because the park only has a port-a-potty. Port-a-potties are gross.
Jackson said he had to poop.
The smell that wafted out of the bathroom could have killed a cat.
He has that diarrhea that can only be compared to what happens when you turn on a rusty faucet at full force.
I’m the butt wiper around these parts. When the twinkies poop they yell out from the bathroom, “CAN SOMEONE WIPE MY BUTT?!” They yell this even when I am the only other person in the house.
I heard the call, held my breath, and headed into the bathroom. Jackson was standing there with his pants around his ankles.
Like always, I said, “bend over and touch your toes.”
Just as leaned down to wipe him, it happened.
Excuse me now, I have to go take a Silkwood shower.