Noodle has become a little obsessed with bathing with other people lately. She’s not particular–it could be me, Bucket, Peeta, or her friend who comes to visit for the weekend, but she wants to have a partner in cleanliness.
So it wasn’t surprising when I told her I was going to take a shower yesterday and she yelled, “My shower too!” and proceeded to strip naked. I was already turning on the water, so I told her to take off her diaper and throw it it in the trash. She obliged, and came running into the shower.
I was standing there for a minute, naked, soaking wet, without glasses, when I smelled something. “Noodle, are you pooping?” I asked, sniffing.
“Nope,” she answered, pulling her hand out of her bum. A hand smeared with shit. Even without my glasses, I could see that some poop had fallen on to the shower floor.
She was not poopING. She had poopED. And it was still on her. And still on the shower floor.
“Don’t touch anything!” I shrieked, trying to quickly wash the shampoo from my hair so that I could disinfect her (and myself). I threw my water-spotted glasses back on, picked her up by her armpits, and ran to the sink, where I scrubbed her hands clean. I put her back on the floor, threw a towel on, and then armpit-carried her back to our bedroom, where all the diaper stuff was.
I cleaned her off, slapped on a new diaper, and was walking to the bathroom to throw it away when I saw it. A perfectly formed turd, on the bathroom floor. It must have been in her diaper when she took it off and threw it away. Usually she tells me if she’s pooped (in a classy way…you know, by coming up to me and grunting, “Poops.”), but I guess she was so overcome by the prospect of dual showering that she forgot to mention it. I won’t lie. A piece of me died as I stood there looking at that perfect turd.
When I was pregnant with Noodle, my friend Sharon gave me a card that said something to the effect of: “You will analyze stool with the enthusiasm of a sportscaster.” I thought it was funny, not having any idea the role fecal matter was about to play in my life.
I guess I could have been a sportscaster yesterday. Maybe an Olympic judge. Noodle got a 10 for form, but a 1 for execution. She definitely got the gold for creativity. And I think I am ready to retire from poop sportscasting altogether.