Poop Soup or, Potty-Training with The Olsons

Just a quick disclaimer:

I don't recommend eating while you read this. (Although people always say "Oh, I have such a gross story, but I don't want to gross you out." And I say "Um, hi. I gave birth to a nearly ten-pound baby, have breastfed three children, have a daughter and two boys and have potty trained three children. You can't gross me out. My standards of gross are wayyyy beyond anything you can present.  I can eat a peanut butter sandwich while TALKING about poop. You can't scare me."

So anyhow:

Scene: Our old house. I was in the kitchen, Callie was in the tub and Henry was crawling around the house, probably eating crumbs and dust bunnies. So I'm in the kitchen cleaning out some old, icky and/or putrid items from our fridge and I'm thinking, "Gosh, what stinks? How could an old orange, some moldy spaghetti sauce and two half-eaten yogurts smell so bad?" (I'm a bad housekeeper, in case you don't know that already) but I just kept fettering along, cleaning out the fridge, drinking my ninth Diet Coke of the evening.

Suddenly I hear Callie yell "HENRY YOU ARE DISGUSTING! THAT'S DISGUSTING HENRY!!!" I enter the bathroom and immediately gag. Henry - my loveable, sweet, charming little boy - had opened and overturned Callie's potty, in which she had peed and pooped without my knowledge (because I would have cleaned it out, had I known!) earlier in the day. So this POOP SOUP concoction had been fermenting/cooking/blending all day long, and Henry had now been using it as finger paints all over the bathroom and himself. He was playing in the poop soup, and to get to him I was SLIDING around the poopy soup bathroom tile, just to reach him before he was completely covered in eColi.

Callie was standing in the tub this whole time yelling at him, I'm gagging (and I was in my first trimester of pregnancy with Abe!!) and Henry was crying because he'd been having so much fun and I was spoiling his fun time. (Who needs Play-Doh when you have poop soup?)

As I pulled him away from the putrid potty he was sobbing, reaching out for it. I have to admit, that in the days that followed, it was difficult to kiss and snuggle Henry because all I could think of was him covered in poop and pee, clapping, giggling and sliding around in the poop soup.

Lessons learned?

• Always check the baby potty for undisclosed activity.
• ALWAYS watch Henry. He's trouble.
• Throw away poop soup coated Henry clothing.
• Scrub the hell out of the bathroom.
• Sell the house. The memories are just too revolting.