Oh crap. Literally.
Since repotty training we've had some issues. The Cracker will NOT, I repeat NOT! poop in the potty.
Now the great thing about 3 is that my child owes me in the "why" department. I get down to his level (that counts as squats by the way) eyeball to eyeball with my sympathetic Mommy mask.
"Poos go in the potty."
Fidgeting. "I know."
"Why didn't you make poo in the potty?"
"Does it hurt when you poo?"
"Are you scared? Is it scary?"
"Then why won't you poo in the potty?"
"Because why? You can tell me anything."
"Cause...cause...I no wike (like) to."
Every day between 5 and 5:30pm he lays a nice stinky in his drawers.
(Interestingly, you can also tell time in our house with out using a clock by the smoke alarm low battery beep that goes off every friggin afternoon 50 minutes before sunset no matter how many times we replace the batteries. Everyday, for a good 10 minutes. And that time would be right now.)
And at least three times a week we have a double poo day which I have not yet figured out the math for and am always caught off guard.
(Who has the formula? Pretty please?)
When I'm lucky J is home by dookie time. Then can I kindly refer to him to clean the child while I wait for him to hand me the soiled undergarments.
Let me tell you how fun it is watching miniature pairs of stained underwear pile up because I refuse to dry and put them away with skid marks. It's a fucking par-tay! My mother always told me that the heat of the dryer sets stains and so I refuse to put anything not 100% in the dryer. Luckily my chemical arsenal has worked well until this point, and in the last few years the only permanently stained item has been a brand spanking new shirt my mom bought at full price from Gymboree that made it into the dryer unbeknownst to me with paint in the armpit from school.
(I check everything for stains. I just hadn't been checking the armpits.)
So stained underwear? I refuse to give up.
(What did everyone's mother always say?)
And even if they are otherwise clean (think freshly laundered) and I put them away to save for the 5 o'clock turd parade, we will unknowingly grab the only brown pair in the drawer and get in an airplane crash. Or, even worse, send him to school where they actually know us.
Okay, okay, so I'm making a big deal about nothing, right? Well it is a big deal to me because as much as I *hate* having super soiled undies hanging around stinking up my house (and garage where one troublesome load that inspired this post is currently residing) I also refuse to wash poopie underwear with our regular clothes and I also in most cases refuse to scrub them out by hand first or stick something the size of a sock in the washing machine alone. I will extract chunks and I will rinse well, but I will not get poo under my fingernails. That is where I draw the line.
(Oh yeah, and I didn't cloth diaper. And since J and I don't shit ourselves, this is new territory for me.)
Now that you have the background:
One night I have a good pile going in the dirty underwear bag so I toss in a load of Cracker undies. Do I take each piece out one by one? Nooooo, it's excrement laden. Without looking I just dump the bag upside down and walk away. Only scalding hot water was getting all nastiness out thus appeasing my inner need for sterility, so into blistering hot water they go. A few minutes later on his way in from the garage J walks in through the laundry room and nearly passes out.
"My God woman! What are you doing in there?"
Uh oh. The smell is OVERWHELMING.
Now, since I already know that heat locks in stains, it would be safe to assume that I would also know that hot water will seal in smells.
Yeah, I don't.
And I'd already done this numerous times without a hitch.
After a quick internet search on cloth diapering I learn that while hot water washes away the stains, cold water washes away the smell.
(Seriously, two loads?)
I turn on the fan, open the door to the garage and spray more than a little Febreeze around praying for a miracle while I attempt to finish making dinner.
It's only that when the cycle is finished and I take out the undies for inspection that I find a big hunk o poo sitting in the bottom of the machine.
(At least I'm not hungry anymore. Squatting and now dieting, all in one day!)
Apparently someone forgot to remove the chunks.
(Pretty sure it wasn't me. Who would that leave?)
I grab a baggie to protect my hands, hold my nose, and run it as fast as I can to the bathroom and flush.
Fast forward...I have now run the same load 4 times, all in hot. And the smell in the laundry room seems to be getting worse though the undies themselves don't reek as much anymore, though upon a close crotch sniff test J and I both detect a lingering odor.
Toss undies into the garage.
So then I run the washer again, on hot, empty, and use an entire bottle of Febreeze.
Smell seems to be gone in the room, but not in the stainless steel tub of the machine.
OMG! Realization sets in that in all likeliness a little piece broke off and worked it's way through the holes and is lodged in the machine!
Which, eew, reminds me of my midwife inspecting the Cracker's placenta for completeness. Suddenly I wish I hadn't been so quick with disposal.
No...wait...no I don't.
Out to market at 11pm. I pick up a gallon of white vinegar, 2 boxes of baking soda and a bottle of NEW! Fresh Scent Purex® plus Renuzit™ Super Odor Neturalizer™ promising Long Lasting Freshness!
Run the vinegar through. Run one box at a time of the baking soda. And now it's 1:30 in the morning and I haven't a clean article of clothing to show for it. But the smell in the machine seems to be totally gone.
Next day I avoid the laundry like the plague as I am just not feeling caffeinated enough to face what needs my attention. Finally, in the afternoon, I take a sniff and all still seems well on both a room and machine level. Looking around I ask myself what laundry is most important since I'm getting such a late start.
Ah! The beloved night-night blankie, which was mine as a child. It's the Cracker's most prized possession. Now it didn't get pooped on, but it smells a little like pee from the wee amount that came out with that enormous poop.
And stupidly I put it in on hot thinking that sterilization is key.
Forty minutes later I realize what I've done.
The poop smell is baaack.
This is BAD. This is THE blankie. And it was mine. And my mom made it. And it's the most amazing 1970s fabric that you can no longer buy and has a softness to it that only comes from 29 years of washing. It is so not replaceable.
So here we go with the NEW! Fresh Scent Purex® plus Renuzit™ Super Odor Neturalizer™ promising Long Lasting Freshness!
Again with the sniff test we detect lingering odor! Or do we? At this point we've sniffed so many crotches that both J and I decide that maybe we're imagining things. But sadly there are no impartial noses around, so back in it goes with not only the Purex but more baking soda.
And then it seems to be fine. But now I'm terrified of my dryer. What if the activation of heat brings it back and seals in the smell! And what if this one little poo has totaled my washing machine and anything I put in it from now on without excrement comes out smelling like we shit ourselves???
(I am full of issues. Tell me something I don't know.)
So instead of going right into the dryer I do a little test by sticking a load of towels through w/o the Purex given to me by my evil Mother In Law. They go straight into the dryer.
And sadly, with another crotch sniff, they seem fine too.
It's okay! It's okay!
(And more than a glass of really cheap Zinfandel helped too.)
And that is all I have to say about poo. For now.