Friday, September 29, 2006

The Poop Chair



The temperature today began at about 60 degrees so we threw open the doors and windows to catch a cross-breeze. Fresh air. Wipe out the doldrums in the house, and diffuse the smell of paint and dust from remodeling.

Never you mind about my swollen eyes and burning nose.

We sat happily at the table, coloring. Patience, as usual, drew an elaborate picture-story. Today, hers was all about her adventure in Care Bear Land with Wish Bear and Twinkers (yes, big fan of Care Bears' Big Wish Movie). She had herself floating on a cloud, surrounded by shooting stars and hearts. My favorite part has to be the bright green fireflies, flying with lighted streaks.

Persistance isn't much past the scribble stage but she did an admirable job of making the school calendar in this month's newsletter much more colorful and interesting.

I reveled in the fact that My Plan was Working: we were Bonding! Having Fun! Doing Good Things! In other words, no mischief or naughtiness, I mean excitement or adventure. Best of all, Persistance had ceased That Noise, the Great Big Noisy Fuss that she has had on constantly since umm Wednesday.

Suddenly, Persistance stood up in her chair.

"Sit down, Miss Pers," I said, "Be safe and sit down."

"Beeeee AHHHHH!" she told me.

"I hear you," I said, "But you need to sit down to be safe."

"Uhhhh UUUUHHHHHH!" she insisted.

I took a closer look. "Ah ha," I said, "You took off your diapah. You have bare bum!"

"BUM!" she said triumphantly, grabbing the body part under discussion. "DIAPAH! NO!"

Then she pointed to the chair, "MINE!"

"Your chair," I agreed.

She giggled, a little too...coquetishly. I squinted my eyes at her. She squinted back.

"Mine BOOOOOO!"

I stood up, walked around the table, peered down.

And I saw it.

Poop.

In the chair.

Under my standing, naked toddler's bum.

She giggled again.

I now heard the distinction between B and P when she reiterated, "MIIINNNEEE POOOOOO!"

"No sit 'ere!" she announced.

"I guess not," I agreed, shoulders slumping as I considered the mess, and where to begin."

"MAMA, 'oot!" She declared, sticking out her foot, which had stepped in the poo.

As good a place to begin as any, I decided. Carrying her by the armpits, we headed to the bathroom.

I thought, "I know what road good intentions pave," and mentally giggled.

By Julie Pippert
Artful Media Group
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© 2006. All images and text exclusive property of Julie Pippert. Not to be used or reproduced.

1 comment:

nomotherearth said...

Ummmm... YUCKY! I am very glad right now that The Boy has not discovered that diapers are, technically, an option. I plan to keep that information to myself for as long as possible.