Lysol, Lysol, Wherefore Art Thou Lysol?

Question: What's the quickest way to end a long, enjoyable baby bathtime?

Answer: Floating poop.



Tonight at bathtime, Lauren was joyfully standing up, splashing down, and throwing the washcloth while I dried and lotioned her sister beside the tub. When Mia started hysterically pointing and screaming at Lauren (did you know pointing could be done in an hysterical way?), thoughts of slipping and drowning quickly flashed through my mind. I was relieved to see the baby sitting happily, enjoying her sister's loud antics.

Not so relieved when I noticed several FLOATERS within inches of her just-washed body. My mind raced as I considered what to do next. Do I run to the kitchen for a scoop of some sort? But that would require leaving the baby alone in the tub. Do I grab the biggest piece with my hand? Sweet Lord, NO - there has to be a better way! Should I get the poop out before draining the water, or hope that the drain will take care of the job for me? Who knew there was so much to take into account in emergency turd removal? These thoughts all passed in a fraction of a second, which felt like several minutes. Something needed to be done about this situation immediately.

All the while, my thought process was being sidetracked by Mia's frantic screaming about THE POO-POO! MAMA SHE POOPED! IT'S GETTING CLOSER TO HER!

I wished I wasn't the one in charge, just for tonight. (I do so LOVE being in charge, so it was a quickly passing fancy.) I wished my husband would have called in sick to his meeting and that I was kicked back with a cookie watching PBS. I wished myself anywhere but there, amidst screaming toddlers and floating poop.

Finally, I came to my senses and grabbed Lauren out of the tub just as she was about to splash herself down atop the nearest grouping of poo. She was safe. Not happy about the abrupt end to her fun, but safe nonetheless. And Mia? Well, she was just beside herself with fascination and horror.

I imagined many things when I dreamed about my life as a mother, but I must admit I never imagined this. I was ill prepared for dealing with poop in the bathtub.

Tell me I'm not alone. Tell me you've been inducted into the Tub Poop Club.