Just When Things Are Looking Up, Someone Always Shits In The Tub.

by Cookie



I’m not gonna lie, Bitches, most of this weekend was no better than where we left off last week.

I’m pretty sure I have the plague.  Or Cement Lung Disease.  Or Lungs On Fire Disease. Or some other horrible sickness I made up to describe how absolutely shitty I feel.

And since I already feel shitty, why don’t I torture myself further by trying to take Buddy’s interest in potty training to the next level?  Why don’t I put him in underpants, and when I run out of those after he pisses his pants 5 times in 2 hours then I’ll just start using shorts?  Because I clearly love to do laundry and I also hate losing.

But lose I did.

I don’t get it.  This was HIS IDEA.  I was happy to leave him in diapers until summer, when I could give it the proper attention and consistency it needs and deserves.

And then yesterday, just an absolute refusal to cooperate. So fuck it.  We put a pull up back on because I got tired of all the puddles.  And I have the plague to deal with so don’t judge me.

So at bath time I offer the fancy bath bomb to the kids to try and keep the mood happy and the kids excitedly strip down as fast as they can to get in the tub.  A bath bomb, if you’re not familiar is a little ball of joy.  You put it in the tub and it explodes sparkles and sometimes rose petals.And it makes the water pretty and soft and wonderful.

Anyway, Buddy gets undressed and in the water faster than lightning.  And I look down and think, that’s weird…why is his foot brown?

Well his foot was brown because he had taken a ginormous shit in his pull up and stepped in it while taking it off.  Also his hand was brown because he had to touch the shit to make sure that it was, in fact, shit.  And now the shit was happily floating around the filling tub, because that’s the way my life has been this week.  Shit floating around in the tub pretty much sums up the last few days.  It’s so annoying and stupid and gross, and you’re not sure if you should be angry or laugh hysterically.

Because why is there always shit in the tub?

There isn’t really.  But it just feels like there is.

Potty training is for the birds.  And so is the plague.