Today was an ordinary day like all others, or so I thought.
I spent most of the afternoon cleaning out our messy linen closet while my almost three year old son laughed, drank and spit water in the bath and my five month old daughter put all the things I took out in her mouth.
It took about thirty minutes and all seemed to be going smoothly. I had a pile of trash, a pile to sell and a pile to give away to my sister. My daughter was immerse in exploring everything and anything I had out and my son kept "having fun" with what I thought was his golden brown toy.
After we were done and my son got out of the bath all by himself, we all switched rooms and I began to reorganize my son's bedroom. As I cleaned, my son climbed on my back, rolled on the carpet, rolled on top of his sister, climbed over my shoulder and head. We hugged and cuddled and then he kicked us and punched us. You know, he was being a toddler and I was being a loving parent.
I tickled him and kissed him. A lot. I kissed his belly, his legs, I kissed his face and even his mouth.
He was still naked, but in our house that's as normal as wearing clothes. So I walked back to the bathroom to grab his outfit and out of the corner of my eye noticed that something was weird about the water that sat in the bath. I walked slowly towards it as I thought out loud, "What the heck? Why is thewater all brown? Is that... oh no! No! Jacoooooob! WHAT IS THIS? Jacoooooob!"
My son comes in running, jumping up and down with excitement, "Popo mama! Popo!!"
The WHOLE time he was in there he was playing with poo water. Yes, poo water!
And he was probably drinking it too. He had come out, not clean, but bathed in poo and I had just kissed him. He also had just rolled on everything and to top it all off I had to scoop out the big undissolved pieces with my bare hands.
Now I'm off to make dinner. I hope scrubbing my hands and face over 20 minutes was enough.
Anna's Note: It wasn't.