The last couple of weeks my kids have been sick, and I have been dee-esperate to get out of the house. So I was thrilled last Wednesday when they were well enough to have a re-scheduled playdate with my friend Bethany and her boys Eban, 3, and Benji, 20 months. (Benji and Sophie are only 13 days apart in age! Aww.)
Bethany was kind enough to make lunch for us and after we got the kids settled in the living room with their food, we finally sat down at the kitchen table to eat. After about thirty seconds of adult conversation, Eban entered the room and said four words no mother ever wants to hear.
“Mommy, smell my hand.”
Bethany and I exchanged a “yikes” look. “Why? What’s it smell like?” she asked warily.
“Poop!” Eban replied. (Poop. Of course poop. What else would it be? I think we both knew he wasn’t going to say “lemons” or “roses”.)
With Beth’s next question, “Why does your hand smell like poop?” our quest to solve The Case of the Mysterious Turd began.
“Baby Sophie throw poop at me!” Eban answered cheerfully. Beth and I both jumped up and ran into the living room. I grabbed Sophie and gave her bum a good sniff. Nothing. I peeked inside her diaper. Also nothing. No clues there! “She’s clean!” I exclaimed. Beth did a similar check of Benji’s diaper, which was also turd-negative. Then we noticed a hard, round, black, thing on the floor. Beth moved in for a closer look. “It’s poop!” was her assessment.
Sophie had by this time began rubbing her face all over my chest so I went ahead and nursed her. After Beth’s turd sighting, I lifted Sophie’s hand to my nose. And screamed.
‘Cause it smelled like POOP!!!!!!!!
“She really did throw the poop!” I gasped, horrified. I put an end to our nursing session and ran her to the bathroom to thoroughly wash her hands.
Then Beth and I began re-enacting the Spanish Inquisition on our older boys.
“Where did Sophie get the poop?”
“Joshua did you poop your pants?”
“Eban did you poop your pants?”
“How did Sophie get the poop?”
“Where did the poop come from?”
“WHERE WAS THE POOP?”
After many, many, many “no” and “I don’t know”‘s from both boys, Eban told us that Sophie got the poop from his and Benji’s bedroom. Beth was, of course, mortified. “I swear I don’t just have random poop laying around my house!” she said anxiously.
By this time I was well past being horrified and was just cracking up. None of my playdates ever turn out normal! I was just glad Sophie didn’t friggin’ EAT the Turd of Mysterious Origins!!
So, we still have no idea where the turd came from. One of our kids’ rear-ends? Very probable! But Beth did have friends over the night before who changed their son’s diaper in her boys’ bedroom. So the theory we are most comfortable with is that it fell out of his diaper, unnoticed under the dresser or bed and that Eagle-Eye (or Dog-Nose) Sophie found it (like she finds everythings she shouldn’t have everywhere we go.) Because that’s the theory that makes both Beth and I less culpable in the Great Turd-Throwing Incident of 2008.
But who knows? Nancy Drew and her sleluthy pal Bess we aren’t.
We are way, way, hotter than they are though. And funnier. And our set of novels and subsequent movie are gonna rock so hard, Jennifer Aniston and Angelina Jolie will probably become BFF just to play us! Just wait!!
