The Voyage Pooptastic

It’s time.

I mentioned before, she’ll be two in May. When Mooter went through this same milestone, it took us a whole year. I’m not sure why all kids are so afraid of pooping in potties or toilets, but she was the master of pee long before poop came. We were overjoyed when poop came. Goodbye Pull-Ups, hello get in your own bed and out of our room. Thank you and goodnight.

I have neglected to post the latest in waste development simply because it’s taken me time to get over. Not because it is grand and wonderful and moving. But that it’s so gross, and vile, and repulsive that it makes you want to put your children, your own flesh and blood, on the black market or E-Bay and sell them. It makes you want to tie a leash to their necks and sit them out in the back yard.

Monday night, Booger thought it would be fun to have her nightly ritual of unclothing herself down to her bare essence. Apparently, she’d become bored with simply taking a piss in the middle of her crib, and chose this night to graduate to moving her bowels. She did so in such a fashion that one could take a quick swat of her naked tush, wipe her off, re-pad her, then toss her back into the pit of despair she has grown to loathe these past few weeks. I have never known Booger to do anything half-cocked. So, she went a step further, laced up her sneakers, and proceeded to perform the River Dance in the pile of filth. Unbeknownst to her father and I, a full ensemble of a concert was taking place in our bedroom. After a half hour of procrastinating a shower, I finally made my way to the bathroom. First, a quick stop to our bedroom was in order for clean pajamas and flip-flops. I never had much of a chance to receive the memo as to what had taken place as I was brutally drop kicked in the nose by the whiff of such an awesome crap, I was positive an army of sweaty, drunk men had snuck in through the window and used my bedroom as an outhouse. Aside from the smell, I observed the remnants of what is becoming commonplace- a diaper on the floor. Diaper on the floor… smell of poop… poop in diaper?… no… poop… in… diaper… YOU HAVE GOT TO BE FRICKIN’ KIDDING ME?! Shoes were still in tact. Did I mention they were laced? And there she lay. Totally naked. In her filth.

What happened next was a flurry of clothes washing and child hosing in some of the warmest water I could produce without scalding her or having to be reported to Children’s Services. She cried. Not because she had done something so putridly sickening, but because I had the nerve to wake her up. From her shat nap. Call me crazy. Call me cruel. But I relished those tears. Welcomed them. I was fighting a war of emotion – cry or laugh. Cry or laugh. I did both.

Yesterday afternoon, when we thought the Pooping Without Pampers episode was behind us, BFam scanned the unusually quiet house for a missing Booger. After finding her in Mooter’s room and a round of cursing the heavens from BFam, it became clear Booger had not had enough of Pooping Without Pampers. She’d called in a sequel. This time she had a co-star. Bo. We have yet to find the poop.

I’ll wait while you gag.