Oh, No, She Didn't, or, RED ALERT!

So often I think of the story my neighbor Martina once told me about how she took her diaper off in her bed and smeared the contents on the wall, and the look of delight on her mother Hilda’s face when she found out what had happened. And I always laughed to myself, because it had never happened to me.

Until today.

The twins were in their room for nap. Bill and Ellie were working on a puzzle in our room. I was doing an ANOVA problem set for my statistics class. I heard the twins kind of wake up and get animated. I thought, I’ll let them go for a few minutes before I go get them.

A few minutes later the twins are really chatty, so I open the door and they sort of freeze.

The smell. Was. Unbelieveable.

I said to Helen, “Did you make a poopie?” And Pudge looked me square in the eye and said, “No. It was Emma.”

I took one look at Ittle and blanched. Emma had smeared poop everywhere. On her. On her bed. On her bedclothes. I was appalled. I almost couldn’t move. She saw the look on my face. I half whispered, half hissed, “Emma Ruth, what did you do?”

She said, “Oh Mommy, I love you.”

I will always have empathy for Hilda. Always.