Wednesday, January 26, 2011


I took my son to the Children's Museum of Indianapolis yesterday with some friends from my MOPS group. We left the house in good spirits. And fully dressed.

We didn't come home that way.

Just a little while after lunch, we rode the carousel and then started playing pretend in these little playhouses they have. So cute! I stood on the porch talking to a couple of my friends. One of them ducked inside to say something to her son. She came back out and announced that someone in there had a stinky diaper, and that it might be my son.

My son? Smelly? Surely, you jest.

But I picked him up, and—wouldn't you know it?—his little dupa was the culprit. I bummed a diaper off a friend (for the second time that day, since I'd forgotten the diaper bag in the car), and headed for the restroom.

I was completely unprepared for what I found.

The kid had poop up his back to his shoulders and down his pants to his socks. Shoulders to socks poop, people! Nasty! I didn't even know where to begin! Fortunately, I'd dressed him in layers. His onesie was shot, but his shirt wasn't poopy. Then in the process of getting him undressed to clean him up, he got poop on his socks.

The extent of the nasty required me to strip him naked, put him in the sink, and wash him off with paper towels as best I could. In the museum. I apologized to the other moms who came in wanting to change their kiddos, since my son's explosion had made the changing station a hazardous waste site. They shook their heads and smiled and sympathized. I don't even want to know what they were really thinking. I'm grateful that my friend April happened to bring her daughter into the bathroom while I was in there. She helped me assess and control the situation.

Disaster. Epic disaster.

We entered the museum fully dressed. We left the museum with my son in only his shirt, diaper, shoes, and hat, and I left without my hoodie (which had gotten poop on it in the cleaning process). I wheeled him through the museum as fast as I could, his little jacket draped over his naked legs to try to provide some semblance of modesty for my poor toddler. Wonder of wonders, my car was parked right outside the entrance. Miracle of miracles, there was a towel in the trunk to put in the car seat to provide it with some insurance against another disaster on the ride home.

And in case you're having a hard time visualizing the scenario, I took this picture when we got home:

That's what he wore outside. In 30° weather. No pants. No socks. My poor baby.

To make things worse, I never give my son his baths. My husband always does it. So when we got home, I had to give an emergency bath for the nastiest mess of all time, and I barely knew what to do. Based on the strange looks from my toddler, I must not do things in the same order Daddy does. At least I got it all off! I hope!

Now, I don't have any words of Christian wisdom to go with this. I wish I did. Something about being prepared for whatever "poop" life throws at you? Thanking God for small blessings, like that close parking space and that mystery towel? I'm just spit-balling here. My personal lesson is that your kid is never too old for a diaper bag with a spare change of clothes.

Oh, and God bless the cleaning people at the Children's Museum. On our way out, I notified several people of the toxic bomb that exploded in the fourth floor bathroom to ensure they got there quickly. We're at DEFCON 1, people. Move it, move it! They've got a special place in my heart from now on. I will thank every single cleaning person I ever see there. No. Joke.

And I hope this made you laugh. It made me laugh, if only to prevent me from crying. 

That is all. 

Oh, but just so you have an idea of what my son looks like fully clothed: 


  1. Never a dull moment, eh? :) LOL! Your son is a CUTIE! Even without pants!!!

  2. Oh my GOSH, Rachel! I am wiping the tears of hilarity from my eyes. What a hilarious afternoon adventure.

    And that picture of your little rascal by the door? Adorable. Absolutely adorable.

  3. At least he was happy, right? You'd have thought I took him to an amusement park with the amount of fun he had standing naked in the restroom sink. lol

  4. Rachel, you are too cute! And your little one is a doll. Oh my, what an adventure! I love how you told that story.

  5. Thankfully we never had one of those when we were out on the town. There was an occasion where we decided it was just best to cut the onsie off of our daughter.

    I don't miss the diapers!

  6. I've totally had that moment *cringe*. Ah, the funny/awkward/sink through the floor moments of parenting...

    a girl & her books

  7. Oh girl, I can relate. Every single one of my girls have done that at least once. My 3rd daughter did that on my coffee table sans diaper, earning herself the changed nickname from Becca Boo to Becca Poo for years.

    Thanks for stopping by my blog and for your fun comment. God does indeed have a sense of humor.... and so do you! ;) And I see you know Melinda (Coming Clean). Great to have fun friends in common!

  8. This is awesome.


    Poop explosions at our house have only recently become less of an everyday thing and more of a monthly luxury.

    I just discovered your blog today through some of your comments on other BlogHer posts. It's possible that I saw your blog the moment you put up your profile. How could I resist something called The Lazy Christian?

    Longest comment ever is almost over. Nice (virtually) meeting you. I'm looking forward with great anticipation to wading through your archives and reading what you're up to.

    Creepy much? Yep. That's me. Creep-tacular.


I wrote the thing. You read the thing. Don't be too lazy to comment!