Saturday, December 20, 2014
Wednesday, December 17, 2014
Toilet humour
This is one of those days that will come back to haunt me.
First thing this morning I was feeding India when Leo woke up and came into the bedroom. He was wearing his pj's and asked me to help take off his wet nappy, so whilst juggling the baby at my chest I leant down to peel back the sides of his pamper. Suddenly we both twitched our noses and he said, 'Oh, I think there's a poo in there too'. WHICH THERE WAS and I keeled over.
Later this afternoon I clunk/clicked both children into their car seats, rummaged around for keys, slung the baby bag into the car footwell and drove off to see friends at their place on the Nile. Loads of kids were in the swimming pool, adults were drinking cups of coffee or chilled bottles of soda and the hot humid air was sticky with laugher. I was sat on a bench feeding India when Leo climbed out of the water and stood on the stone pool steps and shouted, 'mummy I need to have a poo'. JEEEEEEEZUS CHRIST!!
I thought I might have a couple of minutes up my sleeve but when I looked again he was pulling a straining face of terrifying proportion. I roughly pulled the baby off my boob, handed her to a friend and ran poolside. I lifted Leo from the steps and took him to the grass (he was wearing a lifejacket and his friend's borrowed swimsuit. I'd not packed a stitch of pool clothing as it had been raining furiously when we left town). I unclipped the jacket and told him to follow me to the toilet, but he couldn't as THE POO WAS THERE, p-o-k-i-n-g through the swimsuit. GAHHHHHHHHHHHH.
I picked him up and ran towards the kitchen at the back of the house. Only I ran into a kitchen FULL OF BLOODY PEOPLE who proceeded to comment on the horrendous smell following us as we hurriedly made our way to the bathroom. I peeled off the swimsuit, chucked the poo down the loo and placed Leo firmly on the seat telling him to push any more that might be hiding up his bum OUT. He told me to leave so I went in search of a bucket and a bottle of bleach to kill the swimsuit with. Ten minutes later he called out that he'd finished. Indeed he had! I put him in his shorts and t-shirt and told him to in no uncertain terms to keep away from the pool. I spent the next twenty minutes scrubbing my hands
THEN just before we left for home Leo and our host's daughter were whacking giant sized flip flops against the floor. I didn't think anything of it until an older girl called out to me that they were smacking a huge frog. OH YOU'RE SHI**ING ME. I placed India on a sofa and marched over to the pair of them who were laughing like mad people. I took the flip flop from Leo's hand and asked him what he thought he was doing? He said, 'we don't like frogs so we wanted to beat it.' I hauled him off to a corner and told him that it was wrong to do anything like that to an animal. That it was terrible to hurt something/anything and then made him go over to the motionless frog to say sorry. He did, kind of.
The frog was as flat as a pancake but as the host's visiting mother from England tried to scoop it up with a shoe the thing croaked and hopped the hell off. I NEARLY FAINTED. I couldn't stand it a moment longer, so with two sweaty and grubby (and one very smelly) children I grabbed our bags along with other bits of paraphernalia and made for the exit. And then as we were passing the host's visiting mother Leo looked up and told her that her granddaughter was 'really naughty.' ARGGGGH. I cuffed his ear and looking frazzled and grubby myself crawled into the car and swore that when Chris returns from Murchison (apparently tomorrow night) I'm locking myself away for a few days with a bottle of gin and a hundred bars of chocolate.
First thing this morning I was feeding India when Leo woke up and came into the bedroom. He was wearing his pj's and asked me to help take off his wet nappy, so whilst juggling the baby at my chest I leant down to peel back the sides of his pamper. Suddenly we both twitched our noses and he said, 'Oh, I think there's a poo in there too'. WHICH THERE WAS and I keeled over.
Later this afternoon I clunk/clicked both children into their car seats, rummaged around for keys, slung the baby bag into the car footwell and drove off to see friends at their place on the Nile. Loads of kids were in the swimming pool, adults were drinking cups of coffee or chilled bottles of soda and the hot humid air was sticky with laugher. I was sat on a bench feeding India when Leo climbed out of the water and stood on the stone pool steps and shouted, 'mummy I need to have a poo'. JEEEEEEEZUS CHRIST!!
I thought I might have a couple of minutes up my sleeve but when I looked again he was pulling a straining face of terrifying proportion. I roughly pulled the baby off my boob, handed her to a friend and ran poolside. I lifted Leo from the steps and took him to the grass (he was wearing a lifejacket and his friend's borrowed swimsuit. I'd not packed a stitch of pool clothing as it had been raining furiously when we left town). I unclipped the jacket and told him to follow me to the toilet, but he couldn't as THE POO WAS THERE, p-o-k-i-n-g through the swimsuit. GAHHHHHHHHHHHH.
I picked him up and ran towards the kitchen at the back of the house. Only I ran into a kitchen FULL OF BLOODY PEOPLE who proceeded to comment on the horrendous smell following us as we hurriedly made our way to the bathroom. I peeled off the swimsuit, chucked the poo down the loo and placed Leo firmly on the seat telling him to push any more that might be hiding up his bum OUT. He told me to leave so I went in search of a bucket and a bottle of bleach to kill the swimsuit with. Ten minutes later he called out that he'd finished. Indeed he had! I put him in his shorts and t-shirt and told him to in no uncertain terms to keep away from the pool. I spent the next twenty minutes scrubbing my hands
THEN just before we left for home Leo and our host's daughter were whacking giant sized flip flops against the floor. I didn't think anything of it until an older girl called out to me that they were smacking a huge frog. OH YOU'RE SHI**ING ME. I placed India on a sofa and marched over to the pair of them who were laughing like mad people. I took the flip flop from Leo's hand and asked him what he thought he was doing? He said, 'we don't like frogs so we wanted to beat it.' I hauled him off to a corner and told him that it was wrong to do anything like that to an animal. That it was terrible to hurt something/anything and then made him go over to the motionless frog to say sorry. He did, kind of.
The frog was as flat as a pancake but as the host's visiting mother from England tried to scoop it up with a shoe the thing croaked and hopped the hell off. I NEARLY FAINTED. I couldn't stand it a moment longer, so with two sweaty and grubby (and one very smelly) children I grabbed our bags along with other bits of paraphernalia and made for the exit. And then as we were passing the host's visiting mother Leo looked up and told her that her granddaughter was 'really naughty.' ARGGGGH. I cuffed his ear and looking frazzled and grubby myself crawled into the car and swore that when Chris returns from Murchison (apparently tomorrow night) I'm locking myself away for a few days with a bottle of gin and a hundred bars of chocolate.
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