This afternoon was a bit of a disaster. I let my 3-year-old talk me into NOT wearing a pull-up to co-op (and it will be the last time that happens until at least Christmas). He had been doing so much better this week!
His first accident was in the morning, so I changed him into his backup outfit. He had his second accident at Classical Conversations after lunch, and I didn’t have a 3rd outfit so I had to run him home. It was quite impressive: as I buckled him into his seat, yellow poop squished all over me, his shorts, and his car seat.
Went home; gave him a bath; changed clothes. Put pile of poop clothes in the backyard to be dealt with later. Our washing machine has been broken since Monday when it started billowing out acrid gray smoke. (You didn’t know washing machines could do that? Me either.)
We went back to the garage where I noticed a suspicious puddle, checked it out, and confirmed that the hot water heater was indeed leaking, so I’ll have to call about that on Monday.
We drove back to CC in our reeking car, and when we arrived I realized we were locked out. My cell phone was inside the building.
My great consolation in moments like these: this would be a fabulous disaster scene if I ever write another book.