Anyone who knows our family knows that we like a good poop story. Well, we had one happen on Saturday. John and I took the girls to Chick-Fil-a for lunch. They love going there and love to play on the playground. As I was getting dressed that morning I wondered if I was foolishly wearing a skirt, because of the great possibility that I would be climbing up into the playground at some point to get Emily. I told myself that Emily would be fine today.
We got to Chick-Fil-a and enjoyed eating our lunch. The girls played quite happily on the playground while John and I talked with friends who had met us there for lunch also. I noticed that I had not seen Emily come down the slide in a long time. John went to check on her and said that she was playing near the top. That should have been my warning sign. When Emily doesn't make frequent appearances that means trouble. When it was time to leave, John went to get the girls off of the playground. He came back with only Caroline and said that Emily was stuck at the top and couldn't get down by herself. The way he looked at me communicated that he felt I was the best parent to climb in and get her. I was really wishing that I had not worn a short skirt. I climbed up to the top of the playground. The parents watching their children probably got to see more than they bargained for. Oh the embarassing things you will do for your children. When I finally got to Emily she was crying and very pitiful. I noticed that her pull-up needed adjusting. That really means that it had crept up into her little behind. I reached in to pull it out and pulled out two thumbs covered in poop!!!!!!!!!! I don't consider myself a squeemish mom, but poop on my hands makes me a little crazy. I crawled to where I could see the other parents and pointed to one older lady with white hair and said, "You, open the door and call for my husband, John Weaver. Tell him that I need him to bring me some wipes." She quickly did my bidding and John brought me the wipes. I was able to get Emily down from the playground and into the bathroom where I proceeded to clean her up from one of the messiest pull-ups I've seen. I told her that I was not happy with her. She then said, "Are you proud of me?" What do you say?
I have learned that I will never wear a skirt to Chick-Fil-a and to check on Emily every five minutes.
About Me
- Claire
- I am a wife to the most hilarious man and mother to the most precious little girls.
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6 comments:
oh my that is too funny!
I have had many of those same days with my 2 girls! :-)
I am so excited you started a blog!
I was just asking Dani if you had and she said... not yet!
yay! now you do!
and now i can keep up with your sweet girls!
thanks for your prayers and encouragment to our family as well!
love to you!
-Chrystal
I think John needs to climb up the slide to get the girls from now on...
Hahaha! oh gosh! You're a good mom!!!
LOL...LOL... Yea I would have just told John he had to do it since I was in a skirt. Did you thank the old lady when you were all cleaned up???
Yes - I vote for giant John climbing up and retrieving children from now on! Great story!
Regarding two brown thumbs:
In all honesty, I have two questions and only you and Emily really know the truth...But I am asking you to share:
1) How much poop did you get on the playground equipment itself?
2) Did you clean it up or did you find yourself hot, claustrophobic, and nauseous and leave a little bit smeared on the plastic - justified in your mind that another child would crawl through soon and whipe it up with their blue jeans? (After all, the next child's mom would smell it, check their kid's pants, chalk it up to pre-poop warning gas, and move on, right?) How many times a day do we check our children's pants because we smell something, find nothing, and move on without another thought? Now we know...! There's poop smeared atop the playgrounds at fast food joints.
Chris
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