It was bath time, and nappy-off-time. Babe was running around avoiding taking off her top and clamoring into the bath, so I let her quietly empty my bedside cabinet drawers again while I quickly rang my sister for a short ‘what are we doing on Christmas day’ chat.
It started off like this:
ME “Hi B, how are you?”
B “Good thanks, and you?”
ME “Yeah, doing….o oh. Babe quick on the potty, sorry she’s crapped on the carpet”
Yes, my little potty training angel had pooped on the carpet after only a minute of putting her on the potty. The truth is I think she rather likes pooing standing up. Fortunate for me, the real messy end of it ended up in the potty.
My sister, not squeamish when it comes to poo-talk, had a running commentary of the experience. Of me trying to cajole babe off the potty and then gagging at the stink of the misplaced turd. Babe who felt rather proud of her part poo in the potty achievement, slipped back into the role of mother hen keeping her eggs warm. She was not keen on the idea of getting off the potty, and it was an excellent excuse to avoid going in the bath. Sheknows full well that I’m not going to tussle around with her when she’s sat on a stash load of potty deposits.
So there it was – our real dirty phone call.