Shit Happens

I thought my days of cleaning up other people's shit ended when I left the corporate world.

Little did I know but I was in for it again what with a baby and being the primary caregiver. But this phrase took on a new meaning for me this morning.

Kisu had left early for band practice. I was tasked with the early morning bath, something that he's usually in charge of.

Hearing Ellis awaken, I opened the door to her room. First thing I see - a naked Ellis standing up and clutching the rails of her crib. This, I'm not particularly surprised at. You know how she used to rip off her diaper? Well, now it's extended to taking off all her clothes. I don't know - she finds it hot or whatever...she takes it all off.

Next thing I spy - an open, soiled, POOPY diaper in the far corner with a pile of her scrunched up pyjamas. Then, horrors - the poop.

It's everywhere - smeared in big blotchy patches on her pretty pink and white polka dotted sheets (my favourite). It's caked onto the rails of the crib. Little pellets have rained on the floor. It's on her legs, on her hands, lodged deep within her fingernails. And it's stinky, of course.

It's one of those times where it's so bad that you can't even stop to complain or scold. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry - it was kind of funny in a shitty (pun not intended) way. I just heave the girl out and head straight for the bath. It takes about 4 soapy washes to finally get her nails clean.

Then came the nasty task of cleaning of the crib and room - CIF took care of the crib...and a couple scrubs and stain remover sorted out the sheets.

You know what they say: shit happens.