The following column is not safe for anyone who is not a parent.
In fact, it’s not really safe for anyone at all. But you can pretend it is if you want to keep reading. (I don’t suggest that you keep reading…)
Let’s start at the beginning. Simon is still not fully potty trained. And we were spending the night in Austin with the grandparents…and he was really fussy, saying he wanted to go home. He started at about 6:30 last night, saying he wanted to go home.
Apparently that was because he had one of the biggest poops ever all stored up, and he wanted to go home to have it. He didn’t want to use their bathroom. So he held it until night.
Then, freaking mother of all that is holy in this world and the next, he let it go.
He released the kraken. (Use any other metaphor you can think of to politely say that he took the biggest dump he has ever taken.) He lost at least five pounds. And while he wearing an adult diaper, it was *not* enough. Not even close to enough.
The boy wrecked that bed.
Let’s not mince words here. The sheets, the blanket, everything had a fairly complete covering in crap. It was horrible. And this is why I never, ever, ever, ever, ever use white sheets and blankets on his bed. But the grandparents didn’t know that.
Dad had the unenviable job of doing Simon clean-up. We had brought two packs of flushable wipes. It was enough. Barely. I have the somewhat more enviable job of starting the laundry. It’s still running right now, and we’re pretty hopeful it will come as clean as possible, but we’ll still be offering to buy all new bedding. Because…bedding. Yeah. It might need to be replaced.
This is day one of a three day vacation. So far, the first day has not gone as well as it possibly could go, but we have two more days to get through, so we’re holding out hope it will get better. It’s going to get better right? It has to get better, right?