June 26, 2007 by Marj Hatzell
Yesterday I remarked to my bestest friend, the doctor, that Bugaboo has seemingly given up on his strip-tease act and is now piling on layers of clothing instead. (Shoulda kept my trap shut.)
I also told her he is bringing me diapers and dropping to the floor so I change him after he squeezes out two or three drops.
Of course, each time we go straight to the loo. And then yesterday I became a brave girl, I did four loads of laundry and folded them all. Bugaboo played happily right by my side. He currently does now allow me to pee with the door shut, let alone walk into a different room. Down to the basement we went, up to the second floor, back to the basement, and so on, until we had done four loads. The last trip down he stayed in the play area for a few minutes. I got to the second floor and he wasn’t fresh on my heels. In fact, I could not hear the distinct pitter-patter of his feet right behind me in the kitchen. I did not give it a second thought.
That was my first mistake.
I kept folding the laundry (that was my second mistake) and then began putting it away (third mistake, if you are keeping count). Perhaps five minutes had passed at that point. Just when I was about to abandon my domestic goddess-y tasks the sudden realization that Bugaboo might be into something entered my mind. I put the pile of clothes down in the hallway and turned to head down the steps (the only thing I did right), just as Bugaboo began climbing the steps. Nekkid from the waist down. Covered in poop.
ACK! I grabbed him, dashed for the tub and wiped off what I could with baby wipes before turning the ice-cold spiggot on. He did not seem to mind the temperature of the water, in fact, his attitude was like, “Bath? Now? Why yes, thankyouverymuch!” He was pleased as punch. Let’s just saw DG was NOT. I hosed him, scrubbed him, scrubbed the tub, dried and dressed him and then took a deep breath to calm myself down before I headed down to what was surely waiting for me.
Scene: Family Room. Bug Boy is playing the all-too-important Club Penguin. A subtle sniff reveals the pungent odor of the contents of Bugaboo’s diaper. The couch is smeared with the contents of Bugaboo’s diaper. DG casually mentions to Bug Boy that Bugaboo had stripped and left his diaper on the couch. Bug Boy said, “Oh. I didn’t notice.” DG then spent the remainder of the afternoon scrubbing, steaming and disinfecting the couch. Miraculously, this is the only item in the Family Room affected. Even after a thorough search on her hands and knees, DG is surprised to find that clearly Bugaboo went to the bathroom, took the diaper off and then proceded to try to wipe himself off with the couch. Then he escaped to the second floor to tell DG. It’s just a shame he got that out of sequence because DG woudl surely prefer that Bugaboo tell her BEFORE attempting to remove the offending diaper.
Now, Bug Boy says he did not notice. The child who can smell a fart from six miles away, who can smell an eatery with rocking chairs out front that starts with C B and ends in “racker arrel” three states away, who can hear EVERY. LITTLE. NOISE. in a home improvement warehouse store did not notice his brother stripping off a soiled pull-up and then wiping his butt on the couch. Or, more likely, he was too engrossed in Club-freakin-Penguin to notice his brother wiping his butt on the couch. So DG was pleased-as-punch to spend what she THOUGHT would be a quiet hour with the boys playing while she did crossword puzzles steaming and attempting to make her couch clean enough for human use.
But just in case, next time you come over, sit on the floor.