Sunday, March 1, 2009

Doodie!

What was that movie where the candy bar is floating in the pool and everyone runs out because they think it's poop? Well, that happened for real for us. My almost four year old daughter (you read that right) pooped. in a pool. at a rental house.

Well, that's just pooptastic.

Pooperific.

Poopalicious.

We were on an extended weekend holiday with two other couples who each have two kids of their own, similar to our kids' ages. I was on duty, watching the kids swim. The kids had mentioned about something in the pool, but I was concentrating on getting them out and didn't pay close attention. I got my kids dried off and handed them over to my husband while I got in the shower. My husband showed up a few minutes later, knocking urgently on the bathroom door, telling me that Silly had to get in with me. He had found the remnants of the poop in her bathing suit. But that was only the beginning.

We frantically Googled "poop in a pool", which immediately provided the information we were looking for. It also provided an interesting drink recipe. Once we poured drinks (that did not involve simulating poop), notified the other parents and got the other kids in the bath also, my brave husband then proceeded to don his swim trunks, arm himself with a 2 liter plastic pop (poop) bottle and brave the waters to "turkey baster" the offending items from the pool. After about an hour, two showers and several bouts of gagging later, he gave up and left to get some more formal poop-fighting weapons. Luckily, the stores in upper Michigan were already stocked with pool supplies. Some shock and a small net seemed to do the trick, although while swimming the next morning, several more cloaked culprits were discovered. The kids and the parents were all very understanding about it, considering we were paying for a house with an indoor pool that we lost use of for about twelve hours.

This whole situation begs the question, why would a formerly potty trained, almost four year old girl think it is OK to poop in a pool? I don't think she even knows. There may be hope, though. On the drive home today, she had to go, um, number two, urgently. We pulled over to have her try to go outside. Understandably, she wasn't keen on exposing her teeny-tiny-giny to the cold Michigan winter. My husband offered her a pull-up, but she was having none of it. She whined and arched her back, but managed to wait the several miles to the next gas station. She was so excited and proud of herself that she had held it. We'll see if a lesson has been learned.

Oh, and my husband has since informed me that the movie was Caddy Shack.

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