Tonight, I barely escaped a poop in the tub. To date, none of my kids have ever pooped in the bathtub. (Although infant Simon did poop in his towel once.) I had finished washing 18-month-old Charzie and was letting her play while I had moved on to Jonas. I looked over and she was no longer sitting on her bum but was instead squatting. No biggie, she just sits like that sometimes. Then she got the look.
Yeah, the look. You know, the poop look; the one where they just kind of stare while they make that concentrating smile/frown. I still had two kids to wash and did not want to get everyone out, clean the tub, refill and wash. (Realistically, the boys would not have gotten their much-needed bath.) I quickly made Charzie stand up and yelled for her daddy to come get her. No poop in my tub!
So Chase came and dried her off, lotioned her up, put her overnite diaper & jammies on her. A short while later she was playing in her brothers' room while we got them all ready for bed. Charzie squatted a bit, then squatted a lot. Chase asked her what she was doing. Her response was, "Poopie!" And there, in her diaper, was a good-sized turd. That was one poopy diaper I was happy to change; happy because it was a diaper and not bathwater.
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