C's Blog

Isaac is his father’s son. They both like to be clean, they don’t particularly like sticky things, etc. So, yesterday after dinner, when Isaac came up to me with something on his hand, shirt, and shorts I was not alarmed. It’s a normal thing; Happens all the time (especially during/after dinner). He gets something on his hands and then wipes it on his shirt and shorts and then wants me to clean it up.

“Fix it, Mommy,” he asks.

I grab a washcloth, wet it, and start cleaning his hands. I sniff… something doesn’t seem right. I sniff again…

“Isaac,” I ask, “Are you poppy?”

Blank stare.

And then in one continuous breath, as I’m realizing what happened I say, “Isaac, are you poopy? Bryan, I think this is poop. HE HAS POOP ON HIS HANDS! AND HIS SHIRT! AND! HIS! SHORTS!”

Bryan starts cracking up in the other room, “WHAT?!”

“Uh, yeah. It looks like he stuck his hands down his pants, and then tried to wipe it off on his clothes.”

Nice.

You know, I’ve heard of that happening before, with worse outcomes than that. But I tell you what, it was quite shocking.

Luckily, I didn’t think it was a boo-boo and kiss it. “Fix it,” means, “I’m hurt,” and/or, “I’m dirty.” I’ve been known to try to kiss away pain, which is only spaghetti from dinner.

I will now only first assume that, “fix it,” means, “clean me up, lady! And don’t kiss it first! IT MIGHT BE POOP!”

And that’s my story for today. : )

Enjoy.