Too Soon to Laugh

I just hung up the phone with the sound of Chris's laughter ringing in my ears. My reaction to the news I'd shared with him was somewhat less enthusiastic.

On the heels of their newly won privilege to play upstairs by themselves, our charming, delightful, creative "big boys" decided they no longer require my assistance to change Aidan's dirty pull-up. Clued into the fact that mischief was being made by the sound of giggles of the "I can't believe we're doing this" variety, I went upstairs to discover my children had taken off Aidan's pull-up, emptying no less than half its content onto the floor of my bathroom and were using the knife from their kitchen set and a plastic bat to scoop it up and throw it in the general vicinity of the toilet. Following my shriek of horror, Andy glanced up mid-scoop and said innocently "What Mom? Poop goes in the potty." As I entered to further examine the scene of the crime, I slipped on the dirty toilet water covering the floor and nearly fell on my face. It was then, when Aidan reached out his hand and said "Careful Mama!", that I saw the poop stuck to his fingers.

The next moments were a blur, I think my brain is already trying to block the details from my memory, but I somehow got the kids, bathroom and myself cleaned up just as Chris was calling to tell me he was headed home.

Of course he thought the story was hilarious. He's not the one that had to clean it up.