Poop! Here it is! (I Thought You Knew)
Every day Archer and I take a shower together. It’s one of my favorite times of the day. We read bath books and I sing terribly loud while building us hair mohawks out of shampoo suds. And sometimes, when it’s late, Archer falls asleep on my chest as the hot water rains down upon us and we sit there until we become shriveled prunes.
Obviously, as a mother of an almost-two-at-the-end-of-May-year-old, I have been pooped and peed on my share of times. And obviously as a mother-of-two-five-year-old-dogs-that-I’ve-had-since-they-were-puppies, I’ve picked up my share of poop. In fact, I can guarantee that I’ve picked up literally thousands of poops. THOUSANDS. (Holy shit!)
…But l’m pretty sure that last week was the first time I have ever been handed a piece of poop as a present.
First came the bath book. Archer picked it up and handed it to me.
“Thank you!” I said, trying to wash my hair with one hand, squirting shampoo on the inside of my forearm and then rubbing it on the side of my head.
Archer then handed me one of three rubber duckies, which I held under my arm as I tried to lather the suds.
“Thank you. Thank you. And thank you, again!”
Then, Archer handed me a piece of poop.
I guess I hadn’t noticed him squatting. I was too busy trying to hold four rubber duckies/wash my hair/shave my pits. (Silly, silly me.)
I held the poop for several seconds trying to figure out what the hell I was supposed to do with it. Archer was gazing up at me smiling.
“Um… thank you?”
Finally, after way too much deliberation (the thing was starting to melt) I hopped the bathtub barrier and slid toward the toilet where I dropped and flushed the most disgusting turd in the history of turds Archer’s thoughtful present.
This made Archer sad. After all, when he hands me leaves at the park, I am expected to hold them. And I guess I was expected to hold his poop along with the rubber duckies and the bath book and my shampoo bottle. Because it was a gift.
Archer started to cry.
“There, there. It’s okay,” I said, hosing us both off with Clorox, “It’s just that poop is a present you give the potty. And mommy does not accept such
gifts. So how about you stick to leaves and flowers and rubber duckies and bath books, ok?”
Archer stopped crying and handed me one of his rubber duckies, which was more like it. In fact, it was almost thrilling collecting rubber duckies in my lap for twenty-minutes after the poop thing.
I do believe it is a mother’s duty to be “keeper of the crap” but it’s not always awesome. Especially when the duty IS the crap. That just plain sucks, man.
***
Aw! This seems like one of those moments that will be hilarious to tell and re-tell later in life, although it may not seem particularly endearing right now. What an adorable little guy; he’s growing up so fast. May none of the future gifts he hands you be anything that came out of any of his orifices…
I think you handled it quite well! What is with water and the need to relieve themselves anyways? LOL!
Thank you for the opportunity to laugh out-loud at work!!
Very funny, I babysit kids like Archie’s age too. And they also tend to give me leaves, twigs, bottle caps and anything they can find. I guess I should watch out for that kind of present!
Absolutely perfect, talk about grace under pressure. How did you not laugh?
P.S. LOVE your blog
When my son was about 18 months old I had the first indication that he would someday grow up to be the artist he is today (23 years later). He was napping and I heard him singing and laughing and being his cheerful little self in the bedroom, so I went in to get him up. Much to my surprise my little Rembrandt had removed his diaper and painted the most lovely mural on the bedroom wall in poop. He was so proud. He was covered with poop. It was on his hands, face, hair, the wall, the crib, the sheets, and he beemed with pride. I was appalled, but to this day we recount that first artwork as his proudest. I was saying Ewwwww in my cutest non-offensive cheerful voice all the way to the bathtub.
Ha ha! Classic! Archer’s done some “fingerpainting” as well. Not fun.
And thanks for reading, spartic99!
Poor Archer. But that was hilarious!
I haven’t done a lot of showers with the kids, but my daughter (then 15 month-ish) fell asleep on me the first time I took a shower with her. It was frickin’ adorable, but I thought maybe I was the only one who had that happen to me!
I LOVE LOVE LOVE taking a bath with my son. He is 9 months old, and yet to poop in the tub. When he was younger though, he peed on me EVERYTIME i changed his diaper.
Pooping in the tub is a rite of passage!!!
Good for you!!!!
What a perfect first date story! Just wait, Archer, just wait. Your mom will have her revenge. This made me laugh out loud and dread the coming months. Baby Girl has just started reaching for the drawers and diaper changes have become wrestling matches as we try to keep her hands…gift-free. I am not looking forward to poop paintings.
My sister used to poop in the bathtub all the time. She wouldnt dare touch it though she was scared to death of her own POO
David
hi semen =)
this is for you my friend =)