Danny's family has been on vacation so I've been taking the opportunity to take the boys on outings every day.
Wednesday, we joined friends Jane and Gideon at the zoo. We intended to start with the elephant baths, but we missed them. All the elephants were still really dirty so I think maybe they just didn't get bathed, but whatever.
So, we were in the elephant house with the boys, looking at the elephants. They were kind of more interested in the ginormous crowd of people than the ridiculously huge and cute elephants, but they were appropriately awed for a few moments.
As I was watching the elephants, I was thinking what a cool job it would be to care for them every day. Unquestionably the worst part, I thought, would be cleaning up the enormous piles of elephant dung that they left in massive quantities. I mean, I deal with quite a bit of poop, but nothing really on the scale of elephant dung or scraping said dung up off the ground. (This is what we call foreshadowing, folks.)
That night, Oscar was his regular squirrely self; alternately refusing dinner and jamming it into his mouth all at once; spilling water all over his pants, making me take off his pants and just leave him pantless through dinner; yelling about poop and diapers and MILES LAUGHING! etc.
Oscar is at a stage where he really doesn't like his hands dirty, as in I have to wipe his hand immediately after dinner, brush dirt and wet sand off of them when he's playing outside. So when Oscar began screaming in a panicked voice "POOP! POOP!" and waving his hands at me, I was a bit alarmed.
There was indeed poop on is hands. And smeared on his legs. It seems he pooped and, since he was sans pants, he reached into his diaper to check it out. He didn't like what he found and tried to wipe it off on his legs. Then he tried to wipe it off ON ME. NO, okay? Just no.
We were on our way up for baths anyways, so I just picked him up and held him at arms length up the stairs. I took off his diaper, cleaned up his poop, and left him naked while I turned on the water for his bath.
I peeked in his room and he was chatting away and playing with Mr. Potato Head. I filled Miles' infant tub, turned off the water in the big tub. I popped Oscar in the big tub and tossed in some toys. Nelson drew the short straw, so he had to bathe Oscar.
I proceeded to bathe and dress Miles, and then I went into Oscar's room for something, maybe to get his PJs ready, or possibly I was just passing through on my way to the bathroom (which is connected to Oscar's room) so Nelson could say goodnight to Miles.
And that's when I saw the pile of crap on the floor. It was right in the middle of the floor, so I don't know how I avoided stepping in it earlier. It was like a mini-elephant dung patty, several feet away from where he was playing with Mr. Potato Head (being that you don't shit where you play and all.)
One diaperless minute, and he craps on the floor. My kid is officially a floor shitter.
I had to scrape it up, and use a toothpick to get it from between the floorboards. Seriously, you guys. Seriously.
This occasion marked the exact moment I became ready for potty training. I mean, if I'm cleaning up crap off the floor, I want to at least be working our way towards the toilet. So, bring on the floor poop, Oscar, you little floor shitter. BRING IT ON.