Thursday, August 28, 2008

Crappy Story (reader's discretion advised)


If you don't like stories about poop, then don't read today ok. I once read a really funny short story about a guy who went into a bathroom at a party just to find a big log in the toilet that wouldn't flush, and had to devise a plan to get rid of it before the people behind him in line thought it was his. (it was funny... I promise)

The other night when we were walking, Alex watched some lady very neatly pick up her dog's crap, and said how he wanted a dog, but would rather not, cuz it would just mean having to clean up another piece of poop each day. Se la vie.

And all this leads to offspring #2. (I'll take your word if you decide to leave an anonymous comment for me to delete this post if it offends anyone K?)

So... yeah... it all started when one day a few months ago, #2 (aka Effie, Rosey, Goo Goos, the Destructor) had that smirk on her face. I knew it was her "time", so I left her in peace, in her room, to do her business - in her diaper. While I was in the other room with Celia, I decided to go check on the kid to see if she was ready for a diaper change. To my surprise, I saw an empty, opened diaper on the floor. As I kept looking, and calling for my Effie, I saw a piece of shit on the floor.

"What the?"

The piece of crap led to another small pebble, which then led to the bathroom, where to my surprise I saw Effie literally shoving shit into the toilet. She was SO proud of herself, emptying her own diaper into the toilet and trying to flush it down with her soggy dirty hands.

Yeah, gross, I know. You might think this was a sign of her being ready to be potty trained, and I'm sure it was, but she's 1, (almost 2 now) and it was a bit of a shock. Since then, I no longer give her privacy to do her business, and immediately take charge when she's done so she doesn't get the silly idea of "independence" again.

Luckily, after that we had no more poopy adventures in our house. Thank God. But this past week, we decided to take a trip to Palm Desert. Upon packing for the trip, I went out to get a fresh bag of swimmy diapers so as not to let the little crapper have any accidents in someone else's pool. (This past summer she has been notorious for getting the "urge" to go while swimming, and since she's smart and tells me, I've been able to pick her up and send her home to do her "thing").

Anyhow... soo... while at the swimmy pool I realized she had the look of nature calling in her eyes. I picked her up, and yup, she did her thing in the pool, but luckily she had that "swimmy" diaper on, so I was in the clear. (so I thought)

I ran over and yelled at Alex who was busy playing Pole Position or something like that in the game room, and said "Code Red!" "We've got a big one here!" - wait a minute... I didn't say that.. I think I really said "Hey, come here and watch Celia while I change Effie".

He came and I decided to take off Effie's bathing suit to change her poolside as I was prepared with wipes, dipes, etc etc...

I took off her bathing suit and ... plop. A big soggy crap the size of a baseball falls onto the floor. Woops! I did my best to pick it up as neatly as that lady did picking up after her dog on that walk the other day, and put it in the trash. I left behind a tiny piece of something stinky on the floor and yelled at Alex to figure something out and pick it up while I ran off with a stinky kid who needed her bathing suit to be doused in bleach or something.

She stunk, was wet, and gross, and I ran into the hotel lobby/game room/nice hallway area and got us to the showers. (yeah, this place was fancy. I thought I'd have to bathe the kid in a sink, but there was a locker room thingy) ok ok ok. I know this is getting long, but I've come this far so just hang in there... or not.

So I wash the child. Wash the bathing suit. Wash myself. All clear.... then I go outside.

"Where the hell is Alex and Celia???? Crap! They bailed!" Well, they didn't bail, but Celia wanted to swim in the big pool, so there they were. Meanwhile, a new family made it to the baby pool where the disaster occurred.

"Alex! Did you pick up the little leftovers?"

"Yeah"

"With what?"

"With a napkin I found on the floor."

"Is it gone?"

"I think so"

Safe... (again, so I thought)

While we were swimming in the big pool Effie starts to freak out. With her semi-sign language / grunting, she tells me she wants to go back to the baby pool. So we head back. But as we are about to head over, I see the hotel officials. (Maybe they were just some cleaning ladies, but all of a sudden they looked like the FBI to me) They were investigating "something".

I forced Effie to stay in the big pool with me while I watched them like some criminal hiding in a bush. The next thing I see is one of the ladies leaving, then bringing back a man with...... plastic gloves!

"Oh SHIT!" "Alex must not have picked up the leftovers!" Well, he did, and it was strange, cuz the plastic gloves man was looking in the pool while little kids were swimming, then they left.

What the heck were they looking for? Did someone see something? Were we on camera? Did someone report a smell? Could there have been a big bug in the pool that needed to be removed? Why were they there? I had no idea, but Effie's crappy moment was making too much excitement for us. Either way, she still insisted on going back, so we did, and as she swam I inspected the area, and did not find any remains of evidence, but it was a little ranky smelling.

To end this shitty story, Celia and Alex came back to the little pool with us, we swam, and while no one was around, we decided to make a run for it back to LA before anyone else came outside. We took the back route as to not enter the building and made it home in the clear. Damn those swimmy diapers. Next time I buy them I'm buying size "teeny tiny" so that nothing can slip out the sides, or I'll take Lety's advice to put some masking or duct tape around her thighs to attach that swimmy diaper to her body!

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

you do have quite a pre-occupation with shit / crap / bombs / effie rose certainly does things the effie rose way / would you of wanted to swim in a pool some other kid accidented in / hmm / guess thats why the have fbi types around those places / still it was a cute cute blog

sarataxi said...

bombs! you are funny dad.. but remember what you learned in camp. it's called a "dump"