Tuesday, December 09, 2008

I can't believe I am writing about poop ...

I never thought I would actually tell a poop story on my blog. I’m not one to censor myself much, but poop … come on. It’s just gross.

With that said, I have a poop story. Or a fart story. You pick.

Sage was sick over the weekend and woke up in the middle of the night, both Saturday and Sunday, vomiting. I hate when my child is sick. Vomiting terrifies her and I feel so bad. She was still running a fever on Monday morning and because I had a deadline at work, I took her into the office with me. Everything was fine while she was at work with me but in the evening, things took a turn for the worse again.

Apparently, she farted and thought she had pee’d her panties. She was mortified and went running, all penguin style to the bathroom. I was close behind her, thankfully, because as you have already surmised, it was not pee that was in her panties. The poor child was almost in tears. I got her cleaned up and told her that she was to go directly to the potty if she thought she had to fart. Under no circumstances was she to fart in her panties!

About 15 minutes later, she shot up off of the floor and bolted to the bathroom … chanting “don’t fart in my panties” the entire way to the potty. A couple of minutes later she is yelling for me from the bathroom and I walk in to find her with her pants around her ankles, staring into the toilet in amazement. She looked up at me with the most somber of expressions and said “Mommy, my fart pooped in dat potty!”

In my fit of laughter, I helped her clean her little bottom and asked her to please flush the potty. It didn’t all go down on the first try and she was once again a little indignant and stated “that stinky fart water just will not go down dat potty.” My increased laughter did nothing for her mood and she ended up mad at me, but her expression was priceless when I had walked into the bathroom. It could not be helped. I erupted into fits of laughter all evening and every single time she would tell me, “it is not funny Mommy.”

She did manage to make it to the bathroom every time and didn’t have any more accidents. But every time I saw her running for the bathroom, I could not help but laugh hysterically.

I’m a horrible mother and I’m going to hell … right?

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Not a terrible mother. Bless her little heart!

1:37 PM  

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