Saturday, 29 November 2008
Guest post from novelle360
I was prepared for the first dirty diaper. Well, at least in that everybody-poops-so-get-used-to-it sort of way.
I expected it to stink and make me gag on occasion.
I even knew there would be identifiable materials in there sometimes. And that it might get on my hands during the wiping process. And that I'd have to scrub it off clothes when the diaper just didn't quite contain it.
But nothing -- NOTHING -- prepared me for what I encountered a few nights ago.
Being happiest while standing up, it didn't surprise me when Allison gripped the side of the tub during bath time and pulled herself to her feet. She stood there with a huge open-mouthed, ear-to-ear grin.
And as I looked at her, completely enamored, thinking how wonderful and perfect she is, how happy she is just to show off her new skills, it happened.
A huge turd floated by in the water.
At first, I stared at it in disbelief. Was it a mouse? A fish? Surely that couldn't be what it looks like on first glance. It was huge. A real person-sized log. With ... were those baked beans in it? Or grape skins maybe? OH MY GOD THERE'S ANOTHER ONE. TWO HUGE LOAFS. HUGE CHUNKY LOAFS.
Holy sh*t. My daughter just pooped in the tub.
In the 30 seconds it took him to race upstairs, I had an internal debate. Do I yank her out of the sewer water cesspool she created? Then she'll just poop on the floor if there's more in there. Do I scoop it out and put it in the toilet? That would require actual physical contact with the loaves. Even if I used toilet paper, it wouldn't provide that much of a barrier. I suppose I could just pull out the drain cover and let 'er rip. Maybe, if I'm lucky, it'll just magically disappear. And, OH GOD, what if she sits back down and tries to PLAY WITH IT?
With that final thought providing all the urgency I needed, I pulled out the metal grate and pushed down on the stopper.
"WHAT'S WRONG? Is she alright?!"
The water was swirling and the logs were on the move.
"Your daughter just pooped in the tub."
Jerry stood there slackjawed, watching the poop head toward the drain.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING? IT'S NEVER GONNA FIT! IT'S GONNA GET STUCK IN THERE AND THEN OUR SHOWERS ARE GOING TO SMELL LIKE CRAP FOR A WEEK! ... WE'LL SMELL LIKE CRAP! WE'LL BE TAKING CRAP SHOWERS!"
Too late. The first one hit the drain's cross bar and slowly dissolved as the water whooshed past it. Then the other one hit, momentarily clogging it. Creating a puff of brown.
"SEE? SEE? I TOLD YOU!"
Then the force of the suction took the whole mess down, one baked bean-filled chunk at a time.
We stood there silently for a moment, both wondering if that had really just happened. Then Allison squealed and flashed us another huge grin and we knew it had.
"Well, at least we got that out of the way," Jerry said, summing it up like a parent who knows we haven't seen anything yet. "And on the bright side, now we know our tub has a two-turd drain capacity."
But we still pulled out the bleach and ran the shower on hot for awhile -- just for good measure.