GiGi and I are crazy young ladies with wild on our side and
a pocket full of routine to keep us grounded.
It’s a cute pocket, but it’s awfully heavy. At night, GiGi either takes a bath or cleans
up in a tot bath in the gigantic shower we are blessed enough to have. When we finish with the lather-rinse-repeat,
my child and I stroll back to my bedroom where she avoids her diaper and I
attempt to get pajama’d in record time. It’s
a simple routine; showering, getting dressed, and then brushing our teeth
before bedtime. I’ve learned that if I
change the bulletin list in any way, trouble arises.
A few nights ago, GiGi ran down the hallway yelling “Papa!
Papa!” so I figured that it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if I were
to let her tell my father goodnight while I scurried to get dressed and ready
her pjs/ lotion/ diaper/ nightly shot (growth hormone, not tequila)/ toothbrush
and book. What’s cuter than a baby tush
flashing past their grandparents?
Nothing.
It all seemed so innocent.
Naked time for the babe and a series of loud “awwww’s” and “ well hello there’s” followed
by giggles. I was done in two minutes
flat. Do you know what can happen in two
minutes, aside from dressing and prepping?
Poop.
Everywhere.
I walked down the hallway to grab my naked monster baby who
I could hear rambling at the other end of the house and as I approached the
end, I saw it.
It looked like little hot
wheels scattered across the carpet where the hallway finished and the living
room began.
“is that poop?’’ I thought.
I stopped and listened and only heard GiGi
talking to herself.
If it was poop,
there wasn’t anyone who had noticed it.
I flipped on the light and found big people sized pooplings laying
about, mocking my new, capricious routine of letting GiGi run naked.
The cute had officially worn off and faded
into a crap stained carpet.
It’s never
a good idea to rattle the elders at night so I quietly ran to the kitchen to
grab some cleaning supplies.
When I returned
and looked closer at the mess, not only did I see the poop, I saw two smooshes.
One was an obvious foot smashing and the
other?
The other was a wheel mark.
I’m not going to lie – I panicked.
Not only was there a mess on the carpet, but
now it was a
traveling mess.
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