Just thought I'd put it out there. This post is about poop.
"But it's Christmas!"
I'm sorry. You shouldn't have said anything.
Back to my woes with earlier potty-training incidents of the beloved toddler...
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She poops her underwear, and I carefully guide it down to keep the poop contained. Easy... easy... easy... I get one leg out and lower the underwear to the ground. She proceeds to put the foot of her free leg down. Right smack in the middle of it. Yes, it.
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She poops her underwear and I again carefully guide the panty down to keep the poop contained. Easy... easy... I get one leg out and guide it back, so she steps down away from it. Ah. Success. Now, the second leg... just do the same--- she jerks her second leg backwards to get away from the nasty poop she has just become aware of and the brown mass flips out of the underwear and plops soundly onto the floor. Ugh.
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She poops her underwear. I've learned this time. No trying to remove the panty carefully. I back the child up to the toilet. The idea is to flip her panty and have the mass plop right into the toilet, minimizing the mess. I am being really careful, watching to make sure it lands in the bowl. It rolls... it plops right in. (Yes!) I don't anticipate the splash. Right. On. My. Face. I am stunned and disgusted. Then, I am angry. Then, I laugh. And then, I scrub my face with soap. Really hard.
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Another morning, I walk into the toddler's room, and before I throw open her curtains, I am greeted by undeniable non-visual proof that there is poop firmly present. The toddler chirps out "po-po!" She is tugging at the back of her PJ's, and I see that some of the stuff has crept up her lower back.
Fortunately, this time she has on a Pull-Up which means no careful balancing of stuff on fabric. I stick the kid in the bathtub and rip off the Pull-Up and throw it in the trash. I am smugly satisfied. As I am washing her off in the bathtub, the toddler decides to balance herself. With the hand she used to tug at the back of her poopy pants. By holding on to MY LIPS.
Words cannot describe how unsettled this makes me.
I purse my lips together to prevent the poop germs from migrating in, though I am sure they are cackling and lunging at my tongue. I wash my mouth area with the only soap available in the immediate vicinity: antibacterial hand soap.
I don't know if all antibacterial soap has this effect when applied to lips, but surely, the cheap brand I replenish my bathrooms with does. The sensation on my lips reminds me of the scene in "Raiders of the Lost Ark" in which the Nazi soldiers make the mistake of looking at the ark when it is opened. And then, their faces melt off. Such is the sensation on my lips.
As I dry my lips, the feeling is replaced by the one of intense negative 100 humidity. If this soap was a lipstick, it would be named Desiccated. And it would be the most accurate lip color ever. I apply copious amounts of moisturizer to my lips, to no avail.
Desiccated. Look for it at beauty counter near you.
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I do not like poop.