Sunday, September 2, 2012

Targeted marketing

Come quick! one of the girls yelled. G has poop falling down his leg onto the chair!

(Yes, this is a poop story.)

The lovely husband walked over casually but then urgently called, "Robin, I need help!"

(This is never a good omen.)

Mister Man G has never fully recovered from his illness of last week. His weight and energy are back up but his production line is still not manufacturing to spec. It's not pretty, and we're all over it, but the boy most of all. To summarize, he's no longer interested in having his bum wiped.

He had been sitting and bouncing on a large bouncy ball at the time of this most recent eruption, and he started thrashing because he didn't want the lovely husband to take the ball away. The ball needed to be taken away. It needed to be as cleaned as he needed to be cleaned. So the lovely husband carried the boy and the ball over to the linoleum floor of the kitchen, because this was more Superfund than simple clean-up.

And the boy started protesting. Now, listen. I'll clean with lemon juice or vinegar or baking soda as much as the next pseudo-crunchy girl, but there are times when your son's sharing his output with the kitchen floor, rolling around, rubbing it up the cabinets, kicking it on the door of the fridge, and generally making a most terrifying mess, that I hold on to the 'pseudo-' and reach for the chemical wipes. This was not the time for cleanse-your-aura sanitizing, you know? This was time for destroy everything in sight sanitizing.

To everything there is a season, turn, turn.

Well, the only next step imaginable was Emergency Bath. The boy is no fan of Emergency Bath so as soon as he was palatable again but still screaming, we turned to that great panacea, Dora the Explorer on demand through the cable box.

As soon as her pink shirt and come-hither belly button showed up on screen, he quieted for the first time in fifteen minutes. Blessed silence washed over us and the lovely husband and I looked at each other and exhaled. Then came the announcer:

"You're watching Nickelodeon on Demand, brought to you by Clorox Disinfecting Wipes."

It's like they knew.


PS- we learned that the source of G's illness was salmonella. Nobody else in the fam has it, so it's a mystery. But he might keep pooping like this for a few weeks, and worst case scenario, up to a year. Whoa. Please let that not be what happens.
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