Poop Art

I needn’t worry about Timothy not having a single poop for 36 hours. I should’ve worried about poop art.

As Timothy was sitting in his bath tub, playing and splashing, he stood on his knees, leaned forward and… pooped. While I was glad it was the rare “grown-up” poop (as opposed to the usual “paste”), I was paralyzed. What do I do now? Poop in the tub! Toys in the tub! Baby with shampoo in his hair in the tub!

I grabbed Timothy and let him stand on the bath rug next to the tub. I grabbed a plastic bag and scooped the poo and threw it in the toilet. The poo, not the bag. What do I do with the bag? Oh, there’s a cardboard box (garbage). I unplugged the tub – how great that most toys were inside a floating boat and didn’t require being washed. Turned to grab and wash Timothy’s bum.

Uh-oh.

Timothy pooped some more. Poo landed on the rug. And Timothy stomped his foot all over it, squeezing poo into the rug’s fibers.

I grabbed Timothy to wash his bum – and feet – in the sink. Of course that’s when hot water decided to quit. Freezing cold water came pouring down. I put poopy Timothy down on the poopy rug and ran around, turning bath tub tap on, off, on, off – finally hot water was back! Turned the sink tap on – the hot water, indeed, was back! Washed Timothy’s bum (and feet), grabbed the rug, folded it poop-in, threw it outside the bathroom. Put Timothy on the tile floor. Scooped the toys out of the tub. Washed the tub. Filled the tub. Put Timothy in the tub. Washed the toys in the sink.

Proceeded as normal.

Phew.

Well… at least Timothy pooped 🙂

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