Like Indiana Jones!

Remember on Friday, when I told you I had a doozy of a thing happen to me on Thursday, that I would eventually find time to tell you? Well, I'm too tired and drained right now from an...interesting evening, so I'm not going to link back to it, so just scroll down if you don't remember. But, here is the story and it sure is a twosey doozy!

I've always wanted to be an explorer! I would watch "Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom" or read a "Choose your own Adventure" book, and dream of going to far off places, and discovering great treasure in some obscure part of the world, then I would realize that in order to do those things, I would most likely encounter spiders, snakes, or bats. Considering the fact that it makes me nervous to be locked in my own dark walk in closet, the idea of a cave filled with rabies infested vermon makes me downright sick to my stomach. Plus, I don't do well with odd food. I would probably starve to death. So, scratch that, I've NEVER wanted to be an explorer, but sometimes as a mother, I am forced to wear many different hats, and this time a fedora just happened to be one of them.
As you may recall from one of my past "dear someone" letters, Boo has developed quite the aversion to clothing. To make matters worse, or at least more interesting, she has also begun to show early signs of potty-training readiness. So, when she ran screaming into the room COMPLETELY naked, I was not at all surprised. I chased her down, wrestled her onto the floor, and playfully patted her cute little chubby bottom as I told her that ladies do NOT run around without clothes on...especially when they have friends over. (I was babysitting two of my friend's kids at the time) Only problem was...when I patted her bottom, my hand met a disgusting fate.
"BOO!!! You're not supposed to take off a poopy diaper! You can only take off the wet ones! Oh gross!!!!"
No big deal. I clean her up, get a new diaper on her, and then run upstairs to try to find what I assumed would be a poopy diaper.
Only one I could find was wet. Then I start to wonder how long she had been running around upstairs without a diaper on. Had she been diaperless the entire time I was blogging cleaning?
So, I throw on my fedora, grab my trusty toilet paper and paper towels, and head out on a little mommy scavenger hunt, which all of the kids were disturbingly willing to accompany me on.
As we searched, I began to sing: (to the tune of "we're going on a bear hunt")

We're going on a POO hunt...
I'm a little bit afraid!
There's no telling where I'll find...
The treasure of the day!

The kids were not impressed, and neither was my husband when I sang it for him later. Some people have no sense of musical brilliance!

Through the gameroom (oooh!)
Can't go over it! (can't go over it)
Can't go under it! (can't go under it)
Can't go around it! (can't go around it)
Gotta go through it! (000h!)

Repeat the above verse for every room on the second floor. I couldn't find anything anywhere! Just as I had come to the conclusion that my child must be some sort of prodigy, and had actually gone in the potty, I hear one of my babysitting charges say: "Ummm, Sym...We found where Boo Pooped." Personally, I think the reason I hadn't found it before was partly because I didn't want to find it. Yes, it needed to be found, and cleaned up properly, but I much would have preferred to have had no mess to clean up. I grabbed some T.P. so I can clean up after my daughter in the same way I cleaned up after our dog during the puppy year, and reluctantly joined my fellow explorers where X marked the spot.
I will spare you too many details and pictures (because I am so not the mom that takes pictures of poo) but to complete the story, you must know that it took two trips to the bathroom to clean it up. Apparently, while I was on my way to the bathroom the first time, Bug gets the urge to dance. Maybe he's hoping for rain, so that I may not have to drag out the Powersteamer, or maybe he had finally realized that my song was quite catchy, and he felt the need to bust a move. Whatever the reason, I'm sure you've already guessed, he danced right through the remnants of our "hunt for brown October".
Anyone want to buy a fedora?