It has happened to every mother, and I am no exception. It’s not like I didn’t know it was going to happen to me, I’d been anticipating it, I’m just surprised it took this long. If you have a weak stomach, stop reading. We’ll start at the beginning.
I just bought a crock-pot! Now, this might seem like a lie, but although I was raised mostly in Provo, my family did not own a crock-pot. I was always jealous of those righteous families with their avocado and harvest gold countertop appliances. I don’t know if owning a crock-pot has made it onto the temple questionnaire yet, but I figured it’s better to be pro-active! Also, I got it into my head that if I prepared my dinner in the morning then I would have more time to spend with my son after work.
8:45am: To keep El Guille occupied and feed him a healthy, warm breakfast I made him cinnamon oatmeal and bananas (from scratch, natch.) I lovingly prepared our first crock-pot dinner while El Guille (21 months) ate about half the oatmeal, and then gave himself a facial and hair treatment with the remainder. Whatever, we’ll just take a post-breakfast bath.
9:15am: While El Guille was chilling in the tub with his toys, I got ready for work. That morning I had to drop him off at my mom’s office on campus before the dedication at so time was paramount.
9:30am: I’m just about done putting on my face when I hear a sweet little toddler voice say “Mama, poop.” Oh no! I turn around to see logs emerging from El Guille’s nether regions. I act quickly. Remove son from bath. Grab TP and a rag. Check son for lingering evidence. Return to tub to view disaster area.
9:31am: My bathtub is Louisiana Lemonade.
9:35am: It's nice to know that nectarines stay roughly the same color. Remove the multiple tainted toys from tub and place into bleach solution. Drain tub, scrape tub, clean tub, dry son off, dress son, dress self, leave house by 10:30am.
Oh the joys of motherhood, will the wonder never cease?