The ninja nuggets

Hannah is finally starting to poop on the potty. It’s only been…hmm…I can’t even remember, but way too long. I’ve cleaned up way too much poo. Ick. Sigh.

And by starting, I mean only just. As in the day before yesterday. Seems marshmallows are worth sitting on the toilet for.  Especially the pink ones.

This morning started out well. There was no vomit (because yesterday, there was lots. Ick. I hate vomit. But you all know that well enough by now), Hannah was drinking and eating and playing.

But then I smelled something. Something icky. Something poop-ish. Ick. I thought it was Daniel. A quick smell through his clothes proved otherwise.

“Hannah, do you have to poop?”

“No.”

“Are you just doing stinky toots?”

“No.”

“Who’s making those smells?” Hannah asked me. Usually she admits when she farts. Or poops. Or both. I didn’t think it was her, I thought Daniel must just be farting and not pooping.

I kept smelling it. Hannah’s back was to me.

And there it was. A protrusion from her pants. A clear as day poo coming out (or already out) outline. Ick.

I took her to the bathroom and checked her underpants. A poo nugget had already been freed in there. I stood her on the toilet, one foot on each side and pulled her underwear down, and towards the front of the toilet, in one quick fluid movement. That’s the best way to not get poo on myself, herself, and/or our surroundings. The poo nugget dropped nicely in the toilet without touching anything. Yeah, underpants emptying is a good skill to have. It’s taken me a long time to develop it. Sigh.

“Are you done pooping? Do you need to do some more?” I asked her.

“I need to do some more.” She told me. I sat her down on the toilet, her special I-don’t-want-my-child-to-fall-in smaller seat fitted to the inside of the normal seat.

I stepped towards the door to go get the iPad. Watching Mickey Mouse helps her poop. Whatever works right?

I felt something under my foot. It didn’t feel like a towel. Or clothes. Or a rubber ducky, a bottle of shampoo, a washcloth, a hairbrush, or anything that may be accidentally lying about the bathroom floor (and by accidentally, I mean a toddler and/or cheeky baby put it there).

It felt wrong. Like when I stepped on it, it was one height, and then it shrank as the weight of my foot beat down on it.

I lifted my foot, panic filling me. I knew what it must be. But I was still hoping it wasn’t.

I looked down. And there it was. A squished poo nugget. Ick.

I saw the nugget from her underwear fall into the toilet. How on earth did that one get there? Oh my gosh, I stepped in poo. Human poo. Ick.

I wiped it up with some toilet paper and flushed it away before immediately scrubbing the floor with disinfectant. Seriously, how did it get there?

A few hours later Hannah told me she had to poop.

“It’s coming out of my bottom!” She screeched.

We ran to the bathroom. Part of it was already loose in her underpants. We did the whole standing-on-toilet-seat thing again. Again, the poo went in the toilet and then I sat her down and headed towards the door.

Splat. Oh frick. Not again. 

I picked up my foot. Crap (literally). Those darn ninja nuggets struck again. How could I step on poop TWICE in one day?!?!?! HOW DID THEY GET THERE???!!!! Luckily I was wearing socks. Both times.

Sigh.

Maybe I’m not so skilled at dropping poop from Hannah’s underpants into the toilet. Double sigh.

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Copyright 2012 Sheri Thomson