Daddy’s Little Girl is about to turn 17 months old very soon and up until last night… she has not consummated one of my ultimate fears regarding fatherhood.
We’re one of those strange parenting couples who give our kid a bath every night. Our view is that you can’t be too careful with viruses like H1N1, strep throat and Lindsay Lohan running around wreaking havoc on the lives of parents and their spawn.
Which is worse? I’m going with Lindsay…
So needless to say the opportunity has been there for DLG to float a log in the tub. But alas she has not.
Until last night that is.
I was pegged then with watching DLG in the tub while Bunny cleaned up the tornado that had limited itself to the living room. I did what I normally did: splashed and played with DLG while she would chirp unintelligible words and carry on a conversation with me in her language only she and Jesus understand. Occasionally, a word might have escaped her lips that I understood: “ba” (ball), “ba-oon” (balloon), “pash” (splash) or “da-zee” (Jazzy… our dog).
Then after a short while in the water, she said a word any one could understand: “Pee pee!”.
“Daddy… I pee peed!!”
“Ohhh did you pee pee?” I said enthusiastically, “It’s okay… don’t worry about it”.
Then she started to get this worried look on her face while pointing to the more private areas of her anatomy.
“Too. Too.” She said under furrowed brow.
“Uhh… I tooted”.
She normally only says this after I let out one of my purposefully loud flatulent blasts. I noticed moments after she said this that bubbles started make their quickened ascent from underneath where she was sitting to the surface of the water line.
“Uh… are you pooping?” I said very nervously.
“Poop” she answered me back with a smile.
“Tee hee. I just pooped in the tub!!”
I cautiously leaned over the tub and gently picked her up and affirmed what I had feared. Two malt ball sized turds quickly floated to the surface
“HONEY!!!” I screamed. “SHE’S POOPING IN THE TUB I’M NOT KIDDING… I’M TOTALLY SERIOUS!!!”
I unfortunately had “cried wolf” on this situation a couple times before with the result being me rolling on the floor laughing because Bunny had rushed to my side only to find out I was joking. I felt the need to clarify in my loud statement that this was no joke, but rather… a freakin’ emergency! The only thing grosser than regular turds are wet, floating turds in the bathtub.
Bunny fortunately sensed the urgency in my voice and rushed to my aid. We quickly whisked her out of her little tub, flushed the renegade turds down the toilet and washed her down of any possible turd molecules that may have found a way to her through the madness that ensued moments after they become free from the constraints of her lower intestine.
Once she was cleaned off, the turds were flushed and the tub was vigorously rinsed with soap, hot water, bleach and hydrochloric acid… all was right in the Universe once again.
Like most things you fear as a parent… is the fear of the unknown. I didn’t know what would happen if DLG pooped in the tub! But after living through it I can tell you it’s not as bad as I had imagined!
In fact, she tried to tell me! She told me what she was doing but since we’ve only really touched the tip of the iceberg concerning potty training… there was nothing I could do but sit there watch little guys shout “Freedom!!” as they shot through the endless expanse of water they had been birthed in to.
Maybe potty training won’t be so bad!
“Potty training? I don’t know what that is but it sounds like fun!!”
Famous last words…