About an hour ago, I was sitting here on the couch thinking I may as well go to bed. Man-child is out at a party (I didn’t feel like getting a baby sitter so I stayed in for an early night) and the kids have been in bed for hours. Other than clean the house or spend endless more hours online it made sense to go to bed. I was slowly peeling myself from the couch, looking around for the TV remote and though I heard a voice yelling. I wasn’t sure but I kept listening. I thought I heard it again but I wasn’t sure. I found the remote and turned off the TV. Yep, I did hear a voice, the voice of boy-child calling out for me or for dad.
Now it isn’t common that either kid wakes during the night these days, and if they do it is usually because of a bad dream. As I ran up the stairs I was cursing myself for reading Roald Dahl’s The BFG to the kids before bed. I had forgotten just how scary a story it is and had spent time talking to the kids before they went to sleep about how much fun it would be to have our very own Giant to have an adventure with. I was thinking that I obviously hadn’t stressed that giants aren’t real, that even Hagrid isn’t real.
As I neared the top of the stair I could hear boy-child crying and I noticed a strange smell, a really bad smell. (Any reader who is squeemish or has a delicate stomach, turn away now!)
Boy-child was standing on his bed, naked. He had, to put it politely, had an explosive bowel motion in his sleep.
Prior to going to bed he had made a few successfully smelly trips to the bathroom but was still complaining of a sore tummy. In my world of digestive issues, stomach cramps are par for the course and rarely lead to anything but an uncomfortable night of sleep. Being my son, I figured it would be the same for him. I wish that were the case.
He had tried, very unsuccessfully, to clean up the mess by taking off his clothes and throwing them to the floor before trying to take of he bed covers too.As I helped him from his bed, he noticed that he still had socks on and somehow they were coated too. He freaked out and managed to spread shit even further to the far end of his bed. I managed to carry him into his bathroom and straight into the shower where he washed the mess off himself (including out of his hair).
How could so much mess possibly come from one tiny little body? I had the pleasurable task of cleaning ALL the mess and changing the entire bed. Did I mention that boy-child sleeps on top bunk? That means that when he threw his clothes to the floor, they splattered. There were shit splatters metres away from the bed! I also had to attempt to clean the carpet as well as the bed rails, the dolls house and the chair besides the bed.
Eventually the bed was remade and I dragged boy-child from the shower (my apologies to other Aussies in water restrictions – some times a long shower is really necessary). He jumped back into bed wondering what the smell was!
And all through the smelly dramas, girl-child remained asleep, blissfully unaware of the shit around her.
After bidding boy-child goodnight again, he calls to me, ‘Are planes symmetrical, mama?’ before rolling over and going back to sleep. Good night my beautiful boy, I hope you are feeling better in the morning.
Me, I had to go downstairs and hose off shitty bedding (again, sorry about the water wastage) and throw it in to wash before the entire house stinks! I don’t think my early night is quite going to plan, the smell still lingers and I still need to have a shower to remove any possibility of residual mess.