The Poo Disaster

On Sunday I was on my way out the door.  I was leaving Brent with the kidlets as they napped.  Isaac was having a very hard time falling asleep.  As I opened the front door I heard Brent open Isaac’s door and say “OH ISAAC”.  I thought Ikey just looked sad or something because he had been crying for a while.  On my way to the car I realized I had forgotten something and came back inside.  Brent was at the door with a frightened look on his face.  He told me that Isaac had poop ALLLLLLL over the place.  Oh no.

I quickly jumped into action and ran upstairs to his room.  There was definitely poop all over the place.  I could tell he had been sampling some of it’s flavor and seeing how it felt to be squished in his fists.  It was all over his clothes, face, bedding.  Everywhere.

I removed the offensive child from the situation over to the shower and got Brent to bring a plastic bag to deposit the faulty diaper.  All of the clothes went directly into the washing machine and my poo laden baby was heaved into the shower for a good, solid scrubbing.

Ike thought this was great.  “Woohoo, I just had a snack, got out of nap time and now I’m playing in water!”.

While I was ridding Isaac of the offensiveness, Brent was scrubbing down the crib and stripping the bedding.  That crib needed a total wash because those little hands had distributed the poop everywhere.

In the bathroom I was trying to pry open his chubby little fingers and get all of the poop out between his fingers and all the little folds and cracks.

Soon the little miscreant was washed, dried, re-diapered and clothed.  The bed was shinning and remade and the waste matter was being washed away from the soiled linens in the washing machine.  Phew.

I nursed the whippersnapper and I could still smell some residual poo smell.  Something that needs a good strong soap with loads of fragrance to cover over the aroma of his foregoing sins.  One last scrub of the fist and all was well.

The child did not nap, the excitement of his afternoon adventure was just too stimulating.  We tried but then cut our losses and gave up, defeated.

The thought of taking a photo did cross my mind but I was too focused on getting my child’s face as far away from the poop that was stuck to it as possible.  Had I snapped a photo I would have gladly shared it with you.


  1. Oh no! I understand the lack of a poopy picture, I would have felt the same way. I had this happen once with my oldest. I think somehow the poop causes an overwhelming sense of panic, get IT OFF NOW before you spread it anywhere else! I’m not looking forward to my youngest’s next poop adventure!

  2. I’m glad there’s no photo. I don’t need it cropping up in my mind’s eye when I’m showering him with kisses.


  3. What a terrible mess that musta’ been…youmean to say if you’d not come back in when you did that Brent woulda’ been on his own with “that”…HMMMM. I’m trying to imagine that. That disaster is one that fortunately never happened to me.

  4. Was it one of those moments where you go for the camera then stop and go back to baby then stop turn to camera stop turn to baby stop panic say I don’t know what to do first! That’s what I do. I get so dang excited I don’t know where to start. 🙂

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