I spent the weekend down in Myrtle Beach playing golf and then playing some more golf. Other than that it was 3 days of blissfully sitting around without having to break up a fight or get someone a drink or letting people in and out of the house. It made me realize that parenting is most being a bouncer for midgets.
So I came home and got right back into the swing of things.
Last night I sat down to check my email and my wife informed me that she had to run to the store and I should keep an eye on the kids.
Two minutes after she left, I heard my five year old daughter say " Oh-OH !" then I heard a door slam.
" What was that ?", I yelled.
" NOTHING ! DON'T COME IN HERE !!!"
Now she had my interest, " Where are you ?"
" I'm in the potty, DON'T come it "
Now I was worried, " What the matter ? Are you ok ?"
" I'm fine !", she was doing a poor job of trying to sound convincing, " There ....ahhhh....just been a surprise "
" A surprise ?", I asked.
" Yeah, a surprise !", she answered.
" What kind of surprise ?", I kept pressing.
" There's something on the floor....well I really don't want to say, but maybe it would be ok if I can spell it."
" Oh jeeze", I cried.
" No, no, no don't come in. I'll take care of it!"
So I waited. I'm trying to teach the kids to be self sufficient and pressing on them to start cleaning up after themselves. This isn't exactly what I meant, but to be consistent I gave her a shot. I sat there for a while, doing what I was doing, but keeping one ear to the door.
After a while, " Ummm DAD ?"
" Yes dear ?"
" Umm, I'm going to need a little help in here. I need someone to wipe me."
OK. That's an unusual request....and thankfully one I didn't hear the entire time in Myrtle Beach.
I walked into the bathroom to quite the site. There was a little bit of poop on the ground that she had attempted to wipe up, but instead smeared it around. Additionally, she had feces on her bottom and front and her clothes were strewn about the room. By the rising water level, the toilet was obviously clogged and there was a mountain of toilet paper stacked high enough to look like a paper mache volcanic island in a sea of tiddy-bowl blue.
" What in gods name....", I started in.
Now the interesting thing about my daughter is that, while being the smallest and the youngest, she's by far the most aggressive. When the other two kids are faced with a stressful situation they gravitate to "flight" while this one goes right to " fight". Before I could express my awe, she hit me with shock.
" HEY! ", she yelled, " I TRIED TO CLEAN IT UP !"
That did a pretty good job of putting me on my heels.
" Yeah...well...fine", She had me stammering, " Its just that I might barf"
" YEAH ?!", She kept pressing me and at the same time coyly stepping around the poop, around me and out the door, " Well if you're going to barf, then you should get a bucket or something. I'll tell you what, I'll go get you a bucket". And the little weasel tried to run off leaving me there.
" NO WAY...HEY !!!!! Stay right where you are !", I yelled.
The yelling got the attention of the older daughter who I heard running down the stairs..boom-boom-boom..and into the hallway.
" AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH !" she screamed, " She's got poop on her dingle !!!!!"
This immediately drive the younger girl into a fury and she stood there holding her shirt up above the poop line, red with rage and she started screaming....I believe the biblical phrase is "in tongues".
I quickly took command, " YOU ! Stop screaming...and YOU, stop making fun of your sister and make yourself useful. Go get a plunger...NOW !"
This commotion drew the attention of the boy who came running into the hallway.
I never gave him the chance, " YOUUUUUUU ! OUUUUUTTT !"
" But ...", he started.
" OUUUUUTTTTT !" and I pointed to the nearest exit and off he ran.
The next 5 minutes I was a fervor of wiping, plunging, washing, plunging and wiping again. Finally I got the girl clean and sent her to the upstairs bathroom to wash her hands. On the way up there the other two started making fun of her. Her response was to say, " I didn't wash my hands yet" and then she chased them around the upstairs of the house trying to touch them while they screamed and ran terrified.
Eventually I ran up and quieted that revolt.
Finally after all of that, I got to sit back down and start to read the email that I had started 30 minutes earlier. With that my wife walked in with some groceries.
" Everything ok while I was away ?", she asked.
" Yeah, yeah.", I just didn't feel like getting into it.
" Good", she said.
And then continued, " You just got back from vacation... why don't you spend some times with the kids instead of sitting on the computer all night ?"
" Yeah. Good idea."