Sophie was discovered one afternoon last week in a, shall we say, "compromised" situation. No one else was home and Consuelo had opened her bedroom door at her usual end-of-nap time to wake her up. The little girl was found stark naked sitting in her cot, clutching a turd in her right hand, with poo smeared everywhere, including her face. No baby bath gel could sweeten her little hand for the rest of that day.
When Sarah was at about the same age, I had opened a door to find her in a horribly stinky room at my mom's place one Sunday afternoon, when I noticed that she had been sleeping in there quietly way too long. Throwing back the curtains to let in a flood of light, I found her and her bedding smeared with poo, a used diaper come unwrapped on the floor, and a significant portion of the contents (I remembered cos I had changed her and inadvertently left the diaper in the room within her reach) missing! After some frantic scrabbling among the bedding, I finally lifted a pillow to find the lump squashed underneath. The little girl was carried off at arm's length by my mom to a great washing down in the kitchen bathroom while I held my breath and choked back gags as I cleaned out the room.
We are very grateful to Matthew for sparing us any such excitement throughout his toddlerhood. It was only when he was in kindergarten that he had to go (big one, no less) in the car while we were stuck in an awful jam on the way to school. I happened to have a plastic bag handy. The rest is, er, no need to mention.
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