As parents we have to deal with far too many shitty situations. And I mean that in the most literal sense.
Starting from when they are itty bitty babies and an explosion happens of such epic proportions that the only way to get out of that situation is to cut your way around it.
Yes, I've had to cut off my sons onesies with scissors lest not exposing their adorable little faces to feces.
It's been known to go up the back and down the pant leg...and God forbid they catch a flu bug. You wanna talk about a shitty situation. There's a good example for you.
I thought with Adrian being toilet trained since the fall, that dealing with his crap, for the most part, was over.
But today....today was the day I realized it was soooo not over.
I was in the kitchen doing dishes while the boys played. Adrian decided he wanted to actually put some clothes on for the second time in his life and went upstairs to get dressed.
Or so I thought.
A few minutes passed and I started to feel a bit uneasy....it was way too quiet upstairs. I didn't hear any thumping, bumping or yelling coming from him which was very, very unusual.
"Aidy? Adrian?! Are you okay?" I call up the stairs.
"I'm just pooping!" He calls back.
DING, DING, DING!!!! Alarms start going off in my head. Within seconds he comes to the railing and peers at me from the upstairs landing with a very mischievous smile on his face. And I noticed something else very disturbing.
He had no underwear on. Did I hear him correctly....did he say he was pooping?!
I bolted up those stairs so fast that he barely got a chance to escape under our bed. I grabbed onto his leg and pulled him out as he was cackling. Evil, evil child of mine.
Sure enough, as I carry him (in football hold - I certainly didn't want his ass anywhere close to me) into the bathroom I see that he indeed, had a poop...
As I cleaned up his butt while lecturing him not to get off the toilet until I wipe his ass (of-course I didn't word it like that entirely) I'm not sure how I noticed, but I happened to see there was shit on the bottom of his left foot!
I totally freak out now thinking he must've done his business somewhere other than just in the toilet. I scrub his feet in the bath tub and told him not to move as I remembered Finley is still downstairs by himself. I grab our phone and page John who is working from home in the basement. No answer. I run downstairs to find Finley had climbed into his booster chair looking so proud of himself, smiling away, waiting patiently for his morning snack. Oooooooo, that face!
"John! John???!! I need you're help....I'm dealing with a shit situation upstairs. Can you look after Fin for a minute?" I hear him get off the phone and sprint up the stairs.
Thank God he was home.
I bolt back up the stairs and see what I hadn't before...little footprints of crap going from the bathroom, into our room, across the hall with the most concentrated ones in Adrian's room.
John comes up the stairs and puts Finley in his room to play (thankfully the trails of brown did not enter into his room).
John enters the scene of the crime. Turns out my 3 year old has the capacity to also plug our toilet. Awesome.
I start scrubbing with a vengeance, rags in one hand and a bottle of Folex in the other (Folex - best stain remover ever)
He fills the bath tub asking Adrian what happened....his answer being "I'm sorry Daddy...it was a mistake."
I am not sure how shit ending up on the bottom of your bare foot in your house is a mistake, however, I don't think we're getting any answers today.
I am just praying to God we won't be finding any more shitty surprises.
And hope that's the end of today's shitty situation.