I was brushing my teeth a few mornings ago when BoyWonder sauntered into my bathroom. Slightly sheepish grin, big puppy dog eyes, and finger in his mouth - his classic "I'm not sure how to break this to you, Mom, but I've done something extraordinarily disgusting" look.
"Mama . . ." he said, tentatively, pointing down at his feet. His sweet, 3-year-old feet with their wee sausage toes were both smeared - no, not just smeared, more like frosted, as in cupcake - with poo.
I dropped my toothbrush, picked him up, and carried him to the tub, where I tried to clean as much off with toilet paper as I could. I then scrubbed him thoroughly and ran a shallow bath for him to mess around in while I surveyed the damage.
And oh, was there damage.
You know how sometimes a kid who is playing outside will suddenly race inside because they waited five minutes too long to go to the bathroom, and finding the main floor powder room occupied they make a mad dash for the upstairs bathroom, which is carpeted the whole way, but in their full-bladdered haste they forget to take off their shoes so they leave muddy footprints all the way up the stairs?
Change that dirt on the carpet to poo, and that's what I was facing.
And on the hardwood floor at the bottom of the stairs, I found the dropping.
All of this twenty minutes before we were supposed to be leaving the house.
There actually is a silver lining to this icky, stinky cloud of a story. After doing my best to clean the poo out of the carpet, I went to the downstairs bathroom to grab some toilet paper to get the bulk of the dropping picked up off the floor. And there I found a beautiful sight - a toilet full of dooky.
Apparently what had happened was BoyWonder had, of his own accord, gone into the bathroom, taken off his pants and diaper, and did his deuce. But rather than call me to wipe him, he just hopped off the can and went on his way, taking with him a clinger which then dropped and got stepped in.
Yes, that's the silver lining. Give me something to cling . . . er, hold on to here.
This is what toddlerhood is all about - snippets of developmental victory punctuated by disgusting, smelly messes to clean up. Or perhaps disgusting, smelly messes to clean up, punctuated by snippets of developmental victory. Either way, all sorts of fun.
Someday I won't have to wipe anyone's bum but my own, and I'll look back on these days with fondness.