Not taking any crap
Junior is now at the age where she no longer requires the little seat in the bathtub. We just let her hang out in there (supervised, of course) and she can crawl through the water, splash and carry on. She really enjoys bath time. But the first time dad (or, as he’s also known: dadadadadadadadada) let her do this, he got a little surprise.
After I took her out of the seat, she was busy splashing and playing. Suddenly, she stands up in the tub, looks me in the eye, lets out a very audible grunt, and then I heard that distinct sound: ploop! She made a brownie. I’ve changed countless diapers but in the tub, it was different. In the controlled setting known as the changing table, I have infinite resources at my disposal to handle this situation: a work area with removable covers, wipes, diapers, and a variety of other tools for poop-related program activities. This was something much more. It involved evoking the all-powerful. Calling forth the all-knowing, all-seeing mom (or, as she’s also known: mamamamamama). Honey, I yelled, got a minute?
She had a minute. She came in and I was holding Junior away from the offending poopie, which floated with a surprisingly delicate grace. I explained that there was a shot bunny in the tub and pointed. She says Get it out before she steps on it. I said I would but asked her to hold Junior with the thought that, while she held her, I’d go get a towel, rubber glove, tissue or aquarium net to fish out the offending dookie. Without a word or hesitation, the Mrs. reaches in (with her bare, uncovered hands) and grabs the floater and puts it in the toilet.
Now, I’m new to this dad thing and, despite loving my daughter, am unwilling to grab floating excrement with my bare hands. The Mrs. has no problem with it. I’m not sure who the weird one here is. No matter how much I love someone, I’m not cool with handling their turds.
June 29th, 2005 at 9:27 am
The joys of fatherhood, eh? Yeah, the boy did that a few weeks ago. Fortunately there was a big drinking cup on the sink, which made a handy pooper-scooper.
June 29th, 2005 at 11:40 am
I see you guys are new at this.
How about the time the oldest got diarrhea in his Dr. Dentons and it escaped his diaper. A fine coating of green goo covered his entire little body from neck to between his toes. Wife not home.
Backyard hose time…
June 29th, 2005 at 11:54 am
I am so glad my son just pooped on the potty for the 3rd day in a row.
And yes, he too dropped a turd in the tub once (I used a cup next to the sink which we promptly threw out as bio-waste)
June 29th, 2005 at 4:25 pm
Y’all would really freak out at my house. Our 5th child, Cassandra was born at home. NOw, as modern fathers, I’m sure we’ve all attended a live birth and know that the baby is not all that comes out during the process.
WE had a large pink mixing bowl that was normally used for the consumption of popcorn during movie nights. It happened to be handy and the perfect size to contain all the excess tissues and fluids attending the blessed event. After disposing of said tissues and fluids, the mixing bowl took a quick trip through the dishwasher, albeit on the pots and pans setting, and was promptly pressed back into service as a popcorn bowl.
For those of you who attended my weekend get together a couple of weeks ago, I note for the record that popcorn was not served.
June 29th, 2005 at 4:44 pm
You gotta get over the squeemishness wrt baby excrement. Heck, I’ve grabbed poops out of the tub a couple times. No biggie. On the other hand, I’ve invoked mom when the poop is just too much to handle, like when the kid poops on the floor and then decides to muck around on it with their feet. That’s pretty gross.
I’ve also eaten food that dropped out of the baby’s mouth and shared his or her water with all the floaties in it.
June 29th, 2005 at 8:35 pm
“No matter how much I love someone, I’m not cool with handling their turds.”
Made me laugh out loud.
June 30th, 2005 at 1:15 am
Thanks. Just read that one to the wife. She’s still laughing.
June 30th, 2005 at 9:35 am
If you are lucky, you’ll never have to take care of a cancer / chemo patient.
Kids don’t understand.