toilet paper

The Great 2015 Shitastrophy

That time my kid took a dump on the floor

Enough.

Enough is enough is enough. 

Because today my darling, loving, amazing 5 year old did #2 on the carpet.  Because she hates our toilet. Because the toilet at school is ‘shinier’.

Until recently she’d never even graced a toilet with her stench.  Ever.  She’d hold it in and poo in a diaper at night.  Then she’d ask to be changed, thus pushing back bed time even more.

 

We tried taking diapers away but that was a shit-show.  Once can only continuously clean bed sheets and child covered in dung for so long.

 

On day 8?  On crappy day #8 I gave up.

She held it in for 5 nights.  Five nights, waking up dry and clean every morning.  Then it hit the fan – and everything else.

 

8 straight days of waking up covered smeared in pungent, crusty, half-dry stools.

 

Hair, walls, toes, and everything in between had us wondering ‘how the hell did it get in there too?!?‘.   Followed by ‘OMG it doesn’t end!!!!

 

Poopopolypse.  Shitastrophy.  Explosive.

 

Night, after night, after night.

 

“Fuck it” I said, “Fuck all this shit, I’m done”.

 

So every day she poops at school and every night she’s in a diaper.

I felt so bad for her last night when she asked to go to bed at seven.  “I’m tired, maman, please take me to bed”.  The poor thing, I thought, she must be coming down with something.

She was coming down with something all right.

“My bum hurts”

Oh thank the Lord above!  “Ok sweetie, go to the washroom!” I’m doing the secret-parent-happy-dance in anticipation of the much awaited ‘Plop!’.  A good ‘Plop!’ means clean bum tomorrow morning.

Except she gets up and paces the hallway chanting ‘My bum hurts and nothing wants to come out’.  I plead.  I beg.  I bribe – Please, please go sit on the toilet for a few more minutes.  Just a few minutes, I promise!’

It happened so quickly – like a slow-motion action shot from your favorite movie.  Standing at the top of the stairs she could no longer hold it in and out it came.

The biggest lump (yes, lump.  There was no shape to this… thing) of doodoo shot out her bee-hind and onto my carpet.  It was moist, it was shiny, and its warmth could be felt through the multiple layers of paper towels I held on to as I attempted to clean it up.

And that, ladies & gentlemen, is how our anniversary celebration began. 

Anniversary Shitastrophy. That time my kid took a dump on the floor Click To Tweet

How was your day?

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