It is O’s first day back to kindy this year today. I have to admit that I am feeling more than slightly relieved. It’s hard to keep two of them at completely different stages occupied during the days when it is 32°C outside. Things go a little crazy. I do find solace in the knowledge that it’s not just in our house we are suffering from post-christmas craziness…
This morning I had a lovely 5 minutes to myself to drink a cup of tea. I sat down and thought about a post I’d like to write. A nice, cheery, makes me happy kinda post. So I came into the study to download the photos to the computer for the post. Then, BAM – this is what I found on the camera:
Nice. There were more, close-ups, but I figured I’d spare you those (thanks Husband for the lovely memories – preserving those special moments on camera is joyous, is it not?).
Still with me? (I’m expecting a large proportion of you to have stopped reading after the photo. Hey, it’s gross. But it’s also the life of a parent of a small child. Real. And the story is a little humorous.)
The backstory (get-it? I seem to be developing my husband’s appalling sense of humour)
So I’ll take you back to early the morning of the photo of the poo in the hall – as I was showering.
Enter little O, boldly striding into the bathroom with a big work ethic and helpful smile.
“Hi Mum! Are you having a shower?”
O looks around and notices that the toilet roll is empty (mmm blame someone who shall remain nameless),
“Mum, this is empty. Don’t worry, it is my work. I will get another one.”
He then proceeds to take the old empty toilet roll off the wall, puts it carefully in the rubbish bin in the bathroom, goes the to the cupboard, gets a new roll of toilet paper, carefully hangs it, all while humming happily to himself.
“Mum! I’m finished. I got a new one and fixed it!”
“Why thank-you darling. Excellent job.” I say.
And off little Poogie trundles, out of the bathroom off to the next adventure / his “job”.
And I think to myself, in a very smug and self-satisfied way,
“Awesome, I’ve trained a little boy to do the toilet paper roll. Hands-down beats his dad.”
Which of course was the precursor to the poo in the hallway above. My self-congratulatory thoughts and a lack of touching wood is what I think caused it. In reality perhaps it was the brain of a two and a half year old trying to cope with the following contradictory thoughts:
“mmm. I need to poo.
mmm. Best get to the toilet ” (He has pooed in the toilet for 12 months now with the number of accidents countable on one hand)
“mm. I’m in my bed and it is sleep time. Not allowed to get out of bed or leave the bedroom during sleep time.
ah. Really need to poo. Aaah. Mum is going to be mad if I leave the bedroom.
Ah. Need to poo. Need to poo.
Aaaaahhh. That feels better.”
While this was going on I was working at my computer, his Dad was doing the same in the kitchen. With both kids asleep (so I thought), the house was very quiet. Then I heard a great big ripping fart noise. And called out,
“Disgusting, was that you??”
So it was only after I heard the answer,
That I stuck my head around the door to look down the hallway. And saw a little boy standing above that poo in the picture. Looking forlornly at me. Saying,
“Sorry Mum, I did a poo. It’s on the floor.”
And it was all I could do to keep myself from peeing myself with laughter.
“Mum, I did a POO!”