It was a really wet, rainy day on Sunday. I don’t know what possessed us, but the hubby suggested a trip to Whipsnade Zoo might be fun. We have annual passes but havent been for a while so it seemed like a good idea. The day began quite badly when we realised that we had forgotten the rain-cover for the pushchair, but intrepid as we all are we put on our waterproofs and marched forth. The queue to get in was shorter than usual, we got soaked waiting, but hey, we got soaked for the next hour or so. The Sea lion demonstration in the rain proved amusing, even Dominic the Sea lion looked a bit bedraggled.
I have to admit, we were all really enjoying it. Nothing like a bit of rain to get the blood rushing to your skin and it was one of the warmest trips to Whipsnade we have ever undertaken. Usually it’s sub zero on Dunstable Downs. In a fit of enthusiasm I suggested we go on the train. Never one to say no to a challenge, the hubby agreed. So did Toddler Boy, and Fifi just wandered along behind us kicking the puddles.
It was when we heard ‘its all my fault, sorrrrrrrrryyyyy’ That we knew we were in trouble. What was ‘all my fault’? I panicked imagining all sorts of terrible occurrences, most of them having happened to Fifi who puts herself into the line of danger at every possible opportunity. The hubby established that Toddler Boy had in fact wet himself. This is not an unusual occurrence at the moment and seems to be happening with increasing regularity. It does concern me, but that is for another blog post.
Anyway, I marched the little fella off to the toilet and decided upon the baby change as the best place for an outfit change. The floor was sodden with that sort of slushy sightly muddy water you only seem to get at the Zoo when it rains. I determined that the best course of action would be to pop him onto the chair (standing up) whilst I took off his new boots, trousers and pants. That way he wouldn’t get wet socks.
I pulled down his pants and out rolled a cannonball of a poo. With a thump. It shocked Toddler Boy almost as much as me, I know this as he managed to step back into it. I went into emergency mum panic station mode, my eyes darting around the room for some loo roll. When I spotted it, I grabbed it and scooped the poo up into it and then into the loo.That’s when I realised that I needed baby wipes as the situation was critical. They are always at the bottom of the bag. All this time Toddler Boy was stood on the chair exposing his manhood to the world. Goodness knows what people would have thought had they seen him. Soon enough I set about removing socks, smearing the poo around the chair and trying to project a clam persona, so as not to further upset Toddler Boy.
It took a while to clean up and get dressed again, wrestling the boy so he didn’t get wet muddy feet and trying to get him back into his all in one waterproofs. All I can say is that in all of this, I think I cleaned the chair adequately, although now I wonder if I should have used an antibacterial wipe. I don’t believe that I can be the first person this has happened to, so heed the warning in the title of this blog post…