The pool at our resort has been closed down no less than three times during our stay due to… defecation.
I was all psyched to try out the new Pampers Splashers swim diapers I bought for Holden, only to find that they are too big for her, despite them being the smallest size available and despite her supposedly fitting within the diaper weight range. How did I find this out? By the bucket full o’ pee that came gushing out of her suit and onto me as I was holding her.
I discovered that the regular diaper, topped with the waterproof rubber pants (that I also luckily brought along) was a better combination to keep any yuckies from spilling into the communal waters. But the situation got me thinking about how much of my life is spent hoping that my daughter doesn’t poop someplace inappropriate.
Please don’t poop in the pool. Please don’t poop at Gymboree. Please don’t poop in the bathtub. Please don’t poop on the plane. Please don’t poop at the nice restaurant Mommy probably shouldn’t have brought you to in the first place.
This paranoia most likely stems from an incident that occurred the first time I gave her a tub bath. Spoiler alert: she pooped.
We dodged a bullet this time–I SWEAR that not one of the poops that shut down the pool came from Holden. But I think I’ll always be waiting for the other poo to drop.
Where is the most ridiculous place your child has pooped?