Wednesday, June 20, 2018

Poopy face

"Mommy, I need you to help me wipe my bum!" came the cry from the bathroom.

Though I prefer to potty train my children fairly young, I don't expect them to take care of hygiene on their own for quite some time. In fact, I strongly discourage solo wiping because there are simply some things that I'd rather take care of myself, especially when it comes to bathrooms (which give me the skeevies).

Just the other day, for example, I heard Zoë tinkering around in the bathroom and asked her what she was doing. "I'm just cleaning the toilet!" came her reply and I just about died because the very last thing I wanted was a three-year-old splashing toilet water all around the bathroom (ew, ew, ew).

When Andrew bathes the kids he will put the lid of the toilet down and sit on it; the very idea is enough to make me ill.

So to avoid getting poopy messes all over the place, I train my kids to call me to wipe their bums until I think they're old enough to wipe themselves. Sometimes, however, children seek independence earlier than I'd like and today was one of those days. I walked into the bathroom and found Zoë hunkered down by the toilet, rather frustratedly picking bits of soiled toilet paper from her fingers. Poop was smeared all over the toilet seat. It was a rather big mess.

"It's on my hands!" she cried in mortification. "I can't do it!"


"I will help you," I said. "Let's get you up to the sink so you can scrub your hands with soap and I will finish wiping your bum."

"Okay," she sniffed.

So I moved the stool over to the sink (the stepping stool, not her stool) and hoisted her up. She gazed into the mirror and noticed, to her horror, the remnants of the chocolate muffin she'd had for breakfast (we're fueling champions over here, obviously).

"IT'S ON MY FACE!" she shrieked and began quivering with panic. "MOMMY! HELP! I GOT POOP ON MY FACE! POOP ON MY FACE, MOM! OH, NO! OH, NO! OH, NO! GET IT OFF! I CAN'T GET IT OFF! I HAVE POOP ON MY HANDS! MOM! THERE IS POOP ON MY HANDS! THERE IS POOP ON MY FACE! HELP ME!”

"Calm down," I coached. "That's only leftover breakfast on your face."

"It is?" she asked.

"Yup."

"It looks like poop."

"It's not," I assured her. "It's chocolate."

"Okay," she said, taking a deep breath. "Okay."

Apparently I'm not the only one who gets the skeevies in the bathroom.

1 comment:

  1. I laughed so hard! Silently, but still. I was shaking I was laughing so hard. Ahaha!

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