Dad Doody.....

I just found this in a blog that I had started but never completed.   Enjoy a few laughs at my expense..   The things we get to do as parents are some of the most glamorous jobs one could ever have..  Try not to be too jealous at what I got to do in this blog.  I know it was an experience I will never forget...  But I'm trying to..   Enjoy.

Now, Saturday's are for the most part relaxing during the day.  I mean we do some clean up, she does some laundry.  But the evenings are usually pretty busy.  She is forever doing laundry and all the kids need a bath or shower.   The oldest is 12 and obviously can do it himself.   I run baths for the 7 yr old twins, but they get in and out and dry/dress themselves.  Then there's the 3 year old....   He isn't old enough to do it himself, so his bath is run, his hair is washed, he's washed up, then he gets to play for awhile.   He does as any 3 year old will do in the bath tub, he "swims",  he plays with washcloths, he dumps water from one cup to another or into empty bottles and then pours it on himself (and most times all over the floor as well).   

While he is in the bath, I usually sit out in the hall outside the door where he can see me.  I either play on my tablet or do dad things to make him laugh.  Usually that means throwing a balled up towel in the air and letting it  hit me in the head and pretending it knocks me out.  Or, laying in the hall and peeking around the doorway at him, or even yelling at him not to pour water on himself (jokingly in a funny voice).    Usually he spends about 15-20 minutes in there playing then gets pulled out, dried, and dressed.

This Saturday however was different...  He's in the tub playing and doing his thing when suddenly he stops, stands up, and starts yelling for me to get him out...   Now, this isn't really anything out of the norm as sometimes he just really wants out.  So I put down my tablet, get up, and take two steps into the bathroom and notice what appears to be something stuck to the wall..  It registers as poop, but my mind will not allow that to be what it actually is.  So of course I inspect and confirm that it is infact fecal art neatly hung on the wall..  My mind immediately goes to the twins because.. well..  they're gross and have been known in the past to exhibit their finger painting skills before on the bathroom walls.   So I start yelling for them to come down and I explain what I've found and they both deny doing it.   No big surprise there, they always deny at first but usually grilling them will break the one who did it.  But they weren't backing down...  Ok..  This is going to be tougher than usual..  Just as I'm about to channel my super interrogation skills when one of the twins screams "Dad! Bub pooped in the bath tub!!!!!"  Time instantly slowed to a crawl,  I see battleships trekking across the bathtub on Bub created waves..   And I instantly want to cry..    Great...  I'm beyond excited at the prospect of cleaning this up so I ask if there's a lot, and the reply I get from one of the twins is "no, there isn't much at all just a couple small pieces."   Ok, a couple small pieces I can deal with.  So Bub is out of the tub, after a check to make sure he was rinsed and poo free he is toweled off and dressed. 

Now, onto the clean up.  I walk toward the tub thinking that I could possibly wash the "few small pieces" down the drain or something right?.  As I take a look into the tub I then realize that not only has he pooped in the bath tub, but then realized he had to that point not pooped all day..   Needless to say he unloaded at least half his body weight into in the bath tub and none if it was small...  I don't know what small means to the twin who informed me but he was clearly wrong, so very, very, wrong...

Did I mention this was a bubble bath as well?  Normal bath with no suds would have been too much to ask for.  Nope, I get to play mine sweeper through bubbles as he has left all toys in the tub in his rush to abandon ship..  So I muster up the courage to start draining the tub, and as I do I start plucking toys out of the tub praying that the boats I'm pulling out do not have any stowaways on board...  Luckily they do not.  I get the tub cleared and wait for the water and bubbles to drain and reveal what lies beneath. 

So, finally the tub drains completely and as feared he has left both the tub and my soul destroyed.  There are few feelings as helpless as the feeling of figuring out how to clean out a tub full of poo without touching it, throwing up, or ending the child who did it.    With tears in my eyes I set forth and clean the tub out employing the roll of toilet paper to clean out each thing.   I then disinfect the tub with cleaner, spray it down, and rinse it out.  After which I call it good and retire to the living to weep silently for a few moments and try to shake that scene from my head.   I know this is something that kids do, and this isn't the first time I've been at the butt end of it (see what I did there?)  My oldest actually helped me try to clean out the tub with his bare hands when he was younger.  That was fairly horrific.  

As parents we are forced into doing some jobs that some people would not even dream of doing.  From cleaning up fecal filled tubs, to kids throwing up everywhere, stepping in things, bumps, bruises, cuts, scrapes, the list is endless.  I know I put my own parents through a ton with multiple broken bones, sprains, dislocations, and more surgeries than I have fingers on one hand.  But you go through it and you wouldn't trade it for anything in the world...

Anyway, there is a small look into an evening in our house.  Hope you enjoyed a laugh at my expense.  And I'll drop another entry here in the next few days.

Until then, be well...

Rob