Clearly, the glamour was going to my head

[ailbhe]

I was sitting at the dining table ordering a new bra, so that when we go to Ireland for a fortnight I will have TWO bras which fit. Just as I finished, Emer walked in from the front room, without a nappy on.

"Mama?" she said, and pointed between her legs. "Oh dear," I said, "Is there a puddle? Where do I need to clean up?" (Emer is a naturally fastidious child and always tells me when she spills wee, juice, or other things, so that I can clean them up for her). I walked past her into the front room and looked for a puddle. I couldn't see one, but I could smell...

Poo.

Oh.

Right.

I had a quick look around and saw a suspiciously small smear. So first I grabbed Emer and wiped her with a muslin from that room's Basket Of Wipey Cloths. I wiped her bum, legs, feet, and hands. Definitely the smear I'd seen on the carpet was too small. Look for more.

Ah, lumps, by the toys.

Right by that little pile of toys.

In fact, that's a plastic toy animals set. There's an elephant, a farmer, a chicken, and a dog.

And they have all been pressed into small lumps of dung.

Well, it all looked very rural, that's for sure.

(It's all cleaned up now. Dry wiping, a nailbrush and warm soapy water, more mopping up with dry wipes, etc. And now the room smells of lavender, not poo. But even so. All I was doing was ordering supportive underwear. If I do something really decadent, will someone have diarrhea in the pantry?)

Comments

[the0lady.livejournal.com]

I am so not having kids, like, ever.