Reading a few blogs the other evening I came across this warning for all potty training parents on Letters from Ladycurd. I too have been a victim of the poo catapult and its not the first time I've ended up covered in poo. Here are my stories that make me wonder why I carry a change of clothes for my kids, but not for me.
Poo Story One
My daughter was about 6 weeks old, and we had gone to the local breastfeeding support group, which is held in a room with cream carpets and sofas (you can tell this is going to be bad already can't you!). Familiar rumblings let me know she had filled her nappy, but I was 6 weeks in to being a parent, I wasn't a novice any more, I knew to wait, this wasn't all the poo.
I waited, and waited, and waited, but no more poo came. I popped her down on the nice cream carpet, with her bottom pointing towards the nice cream sofa and whipped off her nappy. For those of you who are not yet parents I should explain that the nappy of a six week old will be filled with something of the consistency and colour of a korma. So, nappy off, legs in the air, projectile korma! It squirted along the carpet (did I mention it was cream), along the length of my thigh, and up the front of the sofa (again you do remember that this was cream).
Apparently I was still a novice parent - because when I went to my changing bag for my pack of wipes I discovered I only had one wipe left. Luckily I was with other mums so we gathered together all the wipes we had and I scrubbed through the tears. I crying because I was mortified about the state of the carpet, mortified that this had happened in front of strangers that I hoped would become friends, but mostly I was crying because I was covered in poo and it was hysterically funny.
Poo Story Two
Two and a half years later I have a potty trained daughter, visiting a friend she announced she needed a wee. In the bathroom I took off her pants, but, falling foul to the same knicker elastic catapult as Letters from Ladycurd, I un-knowingly flung a poo that my daughter had done seconds before across the room. I only became aware of its existence when I sat in it!
I wonder why my daughter has decided only to cover me in poo when we are out of the house with no access to clean clothes for me? Coincidence? Or conspiracy?