Clear the Pool

By DeeDee

Warning: If you’re even a little bit squeamish, don’t read this post. FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD, move on. Save yourself! And your sensibilities.

I debated retelling this story. In fact, I wrestled with it for about 10 minutes. But since I’m all about full disclosure regarding my parenting experiences, I couldn’t help myself. And the fact that I’m juvenile doesn’t help. With that said, hold onto your Oreos.

One night I was giving Jensen his bath. It’s a gleeful time for him. He dearly loves his nightly bath. The bath is also the only location that I am able to feed Junior without a fight. With that said, I was sitting on the toilet (lid down) beside the tub, feeding Jensen his chicken dogs. Cut to bite-sized non-choking-hazard pieces. His older sisters were providing the entertainment by bringing their guitars into the bathroom to play “Mary Had A Little Lamb” that they had just learned in their guitar class. It was a happy, albeit crowded, moment.

Jensen got up on his haunches and leaned forward, I presumed to be closer to the source of the sweet music.

I presumed wrongly.

With no warning whatsoever, Jensen shot out the largest poop I’ve ever seen come out a child. It was the size of his entire leg. I wish I were kidding. And it just lay there, fully intact, on the bottom of the tub. Like a submarine.

Jensen stood up, to get as far away from it as possible. And with wild banging of guitars against walls, sibling, and door, the sisters made a hasty retreat out of the bathroom.

I wanted desperately to follow them. But I couldn’t. What kind of mother would I be? Immobilized, Jensen and I stared at one another for about a minute. Then I did what any mother would do. I called for his father. He came quickly when he heard the urgency of my voice.

He assessed the situation. “Dude!” He said as he lifted Jensen out of the tub and whisked him away to the other bathroom. Which was a brilliant move, by the way. Since I was left to handle the excrement. I wondered if he noticed that the child was two pounds lighter. I stared at the tub for another minute or so. “I can’t just let the water out,” I reasoned. That would have caused a whole other set of problems.

I noticed the chicken dogs, still sitting on the counter. Suddenly, I didn’t feel so well. I left the bathroom, my mind racing. I could just close the door and pretend it never happened. A favorite coping skill of mine. I went to the kitchen to get a plastic bag.

Reluctantly, I reentered the bathroom. I began gagging. I opened the seat of the toilet, just in case. It was then that I realized that I hadn’t cleaned this particular toilet this week. An unfortunate mishandling of housekeeping duties. Soon, I was heaving like a dog. Tears flying from my eyes. I put my hands into the plastic bag, trying to provide a barrier between me and the offending feces.

People, it took two hands to lift it out and deposit it into the toilet. I flushed. Thankfully it went down. I thought I would have to dice it up first. Then I had to go after the remaining debris. A most unpleasant task. I was retching the entire time.

I think the only reason I was able to mentally talk myself out of hurling, was that the only person in this house who would clean THAT mess up, would be me. And I instinctively knew that if I had to clean it up, more would be forthcoming. And, well, I just willed myself not to blow.

Let it be noted that I have more will power than I give myself credit for.

I finished up the job by disinfecting the bathtub, wheel pal cars, and my hands and arms, right up to the pits. I don’t know what happened to me. I thought I had developed a high gross-out threshold after birthing three children. I mean, even his diapers don’t bother me. And that’s sayin’ something.

Oh well. It coulda’ been worse, I suppose. The incident could have occurred in my bathtub. Then I would be relegated to taking showers from now on.

I remember when I was very young, spending summers at the community pool. There were a couple of boys who delighted in torturing the swimmers by strategically placing Baby Ruth candy bars in the water. I use to think that was hysterical.

Until now.

I will never eat another Baby Ruth again. They are dead to me.

DeeDee blogs at Fiddledeedee.

15 Responses to Clear the Pool
  1. Mozi Esmes Mommy
    November 23, 2008 | 5:50 am

    I’ve had 2 logs in the tub now, and the first time I panicked. What is the correct protocal when you’re by yourself? Do you remove baby first, or remove poop first? The first time I removed baby, toweled and dried her off, got her into bed, and then dealt with the tub. But it still bothers me that she never got a 2nd washing after being in the tub with the poop! We’ve both survived, though…

  2. Gill
    November 23, 2008 | 8:17 am

    OMG i luaghed so hard i cried! My husband loved this post too.
    We recalled a time in Army accomodation when our eldest was running nappyless. She had to go! We heard a cry for help and low, there is my dearly beloved sprawled on the floor, arm outstretched to catch the gift she wanted to leave on the carpet! He was begging her not to walk around! We laughed so hard at him, he asked what we would’ve done? We all agreed, we would have let it hit the floor and paid for the carpet! Bless him!

  3. Sarah at themommylogues
    November 23, 2008 | 9:19 am

    Happened with my youngest too. THREE TIMES. Once at Grandma’s. Twice at home. Horrible. Just horrible. She was given the world’s shortest baths for quite some time after.

  4. Courtney
    November 23, 2008 | 9:23 am

    Oh this is too funny. It reminds me of the time my god daughter pooped in the bathtub except it was diareha(sp) and it was horrible.

  5. AmyG
    November 23, 2008 | 1:01 pm

    Oh My! This is hilarious, because it didn’t happen to me, of course!

  6. Rachel
    November 23, 2008 | 7:23 pm

    I giggled all the way through this, being that I am juvenile also, much due to my husband’s influence. Luckily for me, the only time that mine has done this was at Gramamma’s house! What luck!!

  7. Stretch Mark Mama
    November 23, 2008 | 8:16 pm

    Every time this has happened to me, I have totally frozen in time, trying to figure out what to do. One time the tub was filled with toys and I JUST THREW THEM AWAY, I couldn’t handle the thought of having to disinfect them too. It’s like all those times you’re at the Stuff Mart, and your infant has pooped to his neck. I mean, why isn’t there a washing machine we can just throw the whole kit and caboodle into?

  8. Kim from Brisbane, Australia
    November 23, 2008 | 10:44 pm

    Now I feel bad because my daughter did it about once a week for about 8 weeks just before she turned 2! I don’t know why, she just chose to wait until she was in the tub!

  9. Ecki
    November 23, 2008 | 10:46 pm

    Been there, done that, but it’s so much more hysterical hearing it from you!

  10. Blessed
    November 23, 2008 | 11:34 pm

    Oh my… that made me remember the first time we gave our daughter a bath at home – Daddy was helping and she did a newborn’s #2 in the tub… it was all he could do to get out of there fast enough and leave me with all the mess! Then had the audacity to try to swear me to secrecy… I didn’t blog about it, but I sure was tempted!

  11. Krista
    November 24, 2008 | 3:19 am

    Ha ha ha ha! We have had that many times. Thankfully usually my hubby is home so I get the “poop duty” of course while he takes a shower with the little man to give him a rinse off.
    The very first time it happened though I was staying at a friend’s house and they were pregnant with their first. It was a rude awakening for them, let me tell ya!

  12. Amy
    November 26, 2008 | 8:02 pm

    Oh my goodness. What a story. I’m not sure whether to laugh or cry that someday that might be me!

    One of my earliest memories was when my sister and I were taking a bath together, I was about two, she would have been three… and suddenly we’re both hysterical: there’s a turd in the tub. We frantically started screaming for our mom, who I guess left the room for a moment. We didn’t know what the offending object was… but we knew it was scary.

    Audrey still insists it was me that ruined that bath. But I know better. You’d think I’d have noticed if I passed something THAT BIG out of me…

  13. stephaniesmommybrain
    November 26, 2008 | 10:39 pm

    That is hysterical!! Each one of my children has done the same thing more than once. Ugh. Guess who always gets to clean it up. Me. I have to say I’d rather clean up a solid “floater” than vomit any day.

  14. Kisha
    November 28, 2008 | 1:38 pm

    OMGoodness I couldn’t believe this, that was just funny!!!! This has happened only once to me and calling hubby for help didn’t help.

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