Tuesday, March 26, 2013

If You Are Squeamish, This Isn't for You

My lovely daughter, who is about a year or so behind developmentally (give or take a few months) is still not potty trained. 

I'm OK with that, as long as she tells me when she has poo-poo.

Unfortunately, she is known for being a bald-faced liar, denying the presence of it even as I am checking her diaper.

Today, I kind of figured she was in the process of going poo-poo, as she often will go into the playroom (for privacy, I suppose) when she needs to go.  I can see into the playroom about 80% from where I normally sit, and there happens to be a couch separating the living room from the playroom (don't ask, this is a weird floor plan) so that makes me sort of unable to see most of the floor unless I'm standing.

Anyhoo, I see her hanging around in there, and I ask her if she is finished.  Mind you, I'm not exactly watching her like a hawk or anything, I'm deleting old programs from the DVR while looking over occasionally.

I'm sure you can already tell that this was a bad move.

She says yes, she is finished, and I ask her to come to me, as sometimes she lies about it being in there, as well as not being in there.  I have learned the hard way that she cannot be trusted under any circumstances.

Well, sure enough we have a winner, and I tell her to walk with me to the changing table, which is in my room at the back of the house.  As we are walking past the playroom, she says, "Poo-poo, mommy."  I distractedly agree with her, and then look at where she is pointing.

She is pointing to the floor of the playroom.

You see, there is a piece of poo-poo on the floor.

Exactly where poo-poo should not be.

I get upset and hustle her into the room, admonishing her that she should not have taken a piece of poo-poo out of her diaper.  I try to wipe her hands as well as I can until I am done changing her and can wash them properly. 

So as I am cleaning her off, I notice something on her foot.

Yep, you guessed it.

She not only put the piece of poo-poo on the floor, she stepped on it for good measure.

That means she has been wandering the house tracking poo all over the floor.

I am somewhat of a germaphobe who discourages any and all street shoes in the house, so you can imagine the yelling my dismay at this.

She of course starts to cry, although my sympathies are limited here, and I am frantically trying to retrace her steps so that I can antibacterial wipe/Lysol all the areas.  I wind up pretty much doing the entire floor and still thinking I somehow missed some spots.

So, how was your day?


J at www.jellyjules.com said...

Sigh. I've had days like that. We used to be a Nielsen family, which meant there was a box on top of our TV, and TONS of wires behind the TV. TONS. (OK, figuratively, since I do understand that there were not thousands of pounds of wires...just a lot) The dog had some fairly serious tummy issues, and went back there to relieve herself of diarrhea. We had to call the guy out to rewire the thing, which was embarrassing. But not as embarrassing as when he had to come out the SECOND time, because she did it again.

And yeah, I've had poop tracked all over the carpets, too. Thankfully not by the child, though I do have poop stories about her, which I shall not share, as she is almost old enough to purchase her own gun, which she would certainly use to shoot me.

Anvilcloud said...

What fun!

Ted said...

Well, my day is NOT full of poop. But I gotta say that you reacted probably how I would react to the situation...

Liz said...

I remember when my days were filled with poop stories. I can only say that eventually, they stop. In the mean time, good luck!

marvel said...

I'm laughing so hard I'm crying. I'm not much of a germophobe, though (I confess to an affinity for the hygiene hypothesis -- not because I think it is well supported by the data but because I can use it to excuse my atrocious housekeeping).