Twice. In one week. AND took out Bathtub Barbie.
Not that I care about that part. It actually felt good to throw one of those dolls out. But I’ve always prided myself on my gross factor (GF). Giving birth actually upped my ability to take on things that would have once made me ill. But last week…my GF really put on a lackluster performance.
The ONE/TWO bathtub combination is tricky. Not the synchronized clothes stripping, washing or letting them play. Those are fine. The trouble comes when it’s time to exit and dry off. Until this point TWO got out first because ONE wanted “extra time” to play. During this extra playtime she was responsible for cleaning the toys out of the tub so that the water was drained and I could close the curtain right after she exited.
Naturally, TWO has never cared to get out first. She’d pretty much scream and then try to hurl herself back in once she was dried and dressed. But this week ONE decided that she no longer wanted to clean the tub, so she wanted to get out first. TWO was delighted by this turn of events.
While I dried off ONE, TWO got suspiciously quiet. And I, like an idiot, thought nothing of it. Instead I enjoyed the silence. And when I absent-mindedly put my hand in the water to pull the drain, something warm and not plastic bumped against my hand.
Now look, I’ve been a professional mom for over 4 years now. I’ve been pooped on, proper, many times. But this…
ONE “ewwwwwed” on my behalf as I yanked TWO out of the tub. And apparently my GF was having an off-week because I actually dry-heaved while scooping evidence of lunch out of the water with a toy. (And I never show signs of weakness like that.)
I spent the next 24-hour period trying to get ONE to “understand” that she would be getting out of the tub second from now on. I even hinted that I might clean up. ONE told me I was lucky she was still getting in the tub with her sister at all.
I couldn’t argue that.
So I went into hyper-drive. Fast bath, fast play-time, fast drying-off of ONE, all while watching the baby. And as I reached into the tub to pull out TWO, I noticed that she was breaking something apart in her hands. And as far as I could recall none of our bath toys had corn in them. I yanked TWO out, dressed her and deposited her in her crib.
Cleaning out the tub was horrific this time. The poop was soggy and bloated and everywhere. And I couldn’t even see it clearly because there were just enough bubbles left to obstruct my view.
Bathtub Barbie with doo-doo lodged in her lovely, blonde locks. Trash.
Even still there were large crumbs collected at the drain that didn’t melt when sprayed with disinfectant or scalding hot water. They had to be manually removed. But not before I yakked on them.
Gross Factor? America has voted and I’m afraid that this is the end of the road for you.
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