thank you, Sparky

I have often felt ambivalent about my yearling son’s physical prowess and daring – he is not overly cautious and attempts hair-raising feats while strongly opposing any hindrance from his daddy and me. But we also notice he is not much phased when his attempted shenanigans go awry, and thus far – in the last thirteen months, fifteen days, and twelve hours at least – he has sustained only mild injuries. Case in point: baths. He loves to not only drain the tub and pull himself up to standing, but after the tub is empty he “runs” around in his little arena, drunk on a sense of (nude) power, heedless to the most slippery tub bottom. Despite the fact this behavior triggers fears of my second most-dreaded childhood non-fatal injury – the bashing out of little pearly teeth – so far he has remained safe. It is still a point of contention between his daddy and I, but the fact is it is too hard for me to micromanage his bath while, say, cooking lunch, taking phone calls from mean bill collectors, and keeping my toddler from setting the house on fire.


So I often leave the little guy in the bathtub as I buzz through the hallway, picking up dirty clothes and getting his new diaper ready, etc, listening in and checking on his crazy tub activity. This afternoon after getting The Girl down for her nap I went in to collect him and was immediately accosted by a most foul odor – Mama-sirens go off – damn, he pooped in the tub! I rush over, already saddened by the prospect of my next half hour of high-intensity sanitation procedures, instead to be somewhat impressed – and relieved – to see the following had taken place (this is a reconstruction of original crime scene as I was not actually there):

1. Nels thinks, “I have to poop”.
2. Nels drains tub (note: Step 2 might have actually preceded Step 1).
3. Nels deposits load of scary, scary poo in the middle of drained bathtub.
4. Nels cautiously – so as not to disturb polite pile of foul waste – moves further along tub, plays with faucet, and awaits Mama.

Do you dear, dear readers know what my afternoon would have entailed should Nels have either skipped Step 2 or trod a little freer after Step 3? Those of you who have changed a nasty diaper know that it ain’t fun, but it’s gotta be done. Those of you in an even smaller – shall I say “elite”? – class may have had to actually deal with the more creative problem-solving skills (and larger laundry situation) – entailed in scraping poo off of the body and/or clothes in a “one that got away” situation. And nevermind what a free-range turd floating in a bathtub requires if you aren’t going to forever feel gross about your tub. As it was, I got off with a best-case scenario. Five minutes after I was in the bathroom lifting him out of the tub, Nels was fresh as a daisy and swaddled in nap-ready clothes. A couple passes with paper towels and Clorox and the tub was good to go. Not to mention, no soiled cloth diaper.

Whew – A Close Call.

In other news, I cut half my left ring finger off today in a bagel-slicing incident. I exaggerate slightly but! it was a bleeder. My husband rushed home with bandages (we had none – duh!) and rescued me. After that got all sorted out me & the Two Tinies met Jen & Chance for a morning beach trip / picnic (fabulous!). I am currently postponing housework to blog (I will regret that when the kids wake up) and hoping to get a cigarette break in soon.

Comments are closed.