A few nights ago, I took my son out of the bathtub and wrapped a towel around him. I brought him into the living room and then put him down on the couch so that I could grab a diaper from the nursery (which is literally the next room over). By the time I returned to the living room, he had chucked his towel and was running up and down the hall like a crazy child.
I sat on the couch and told him to come over to me so I could put on his diaper, but instead, he looked up at me with an expression of disgust on his face. Then, with his knees bent in an awkward position (as though he were trying to avoid touching something on the inside of his leg), he held his hand up to me and said, "Eww."
"What is that?!?" I proclaimed, as I could immediately see that he had something brown and squishy in his outstretched hands. Yep, you guessed it. It was poop. And no - there was no need to reenact that scene from Baby Mama: "Is this chocolate or poop? Chocolate or poop?" lol. Once I got near enough, the smell spoke volumes for itself.
|Yes, this is chocolate! ::evil grin::|
So yeah...it was all over his bottom, down the inside of his leg and all over his hands. Then it hit me: "Oh my goodness! Where did you poop?!?" I looked down the hall and immediately saw it - a nice brown trail that led to a big pile of "gold" at the end - right in front of my bedroom door. ::sigh:: I immediately stuck him in the bathtub and cleaned him off, then took him to my oldest daughter, requesting that she keep him out of the hallway so I could clean up the mess. Let me just say this: It. was. so. disgusting. And keeping him away long enough to get the job done was a whole challenge in itself. The boy is so stubborn!
Anyway, the following night, my daughter was taking a shower and (as he usually does) my sneaky, little guy creeped into the restroom and poked his head in through the shower curtain (he loves taking baths and always wants to join you when you are in the bathtub). Before I could get in there to retrieve him; though, she asked him if he wanted to take a shower with her (ugh!), so in order to avoid a meltdown, I conceded. Not five minutes later; however, I heard my daughter screaming bloody murder.
"What in the world is the matter?" I shrieked as I rushed into the restroom. Sure enough, the terrible twos had struck again! He had pooped in the bathtub. ::shudders::
|Yeah - it was kinda like that. ;)|