Pooper Scooper

The neighborhood moms host a play group once a week. We do this so we can possibly have one endless, interrupted conversation. At least it's a conversation of sorts.  Contact with another adult who can form logical sentences with out crying is pretty important right now.

 I hosted this particular week. My daughter Emma was running around with her pink pee stained princess dress, playing with all of her friends. With each new 3 year old, the noise level got higher and higher.

Some of the moms had babies too.  Quite a few moms were new to the neighborhood and I had never met them, so I wanted to make a good "impression"- what ever that means. It's not like I had make up onor even a cute outfit. My first impression "management"is deteriorating slowly.

I did make muffins (not from scratch) . It's been 15 minutes, and all of the muffins are demolished. Some are half eaten, one is squished, with a random straw sticking out of it, and the rest are crumbs on the floor. Anyway, Jaxson was still sleeping as people were arriving so I knew he would wake up soon.
So .... he starts screaming. "Oh that's just my son waking up" I laugh. All the moms do too, obviously a familiar sound to all of us.

I bring him out on the couch with me and he is being very sweet. He has his little half bald head nuzzled into my neck and all the ladies are talking about how cute he is. I start to smell poop, but I ignore it, I am too afraid to face what might be happening.  Suddenly, Jaxson turns his head and slides his hand across my face. Smelly, runny, brown shit is being smeared clear across my face, and into the strands of my hair. I want to DIE, and maybe vomit first.
"OH MY GOD" I yelled and everyone was looking.
"IS THAT POOP?????!" one of the moms asked loudly.
I was mortified. "Um Yeah " I cried, (because I was seriously crying inside.) "He has a habit of scooping poop out of his diaper and then it ends up on his hands.... it is so gross" I say. (I mean really?
What the fuck can I say? I have shit on my face and in my hair.)

I pop up off the couch to run for the sink, to rinse and soap, repeat, rinse and soap and repeat. I also have to remove all the poop from Jaxson's hand. It doesn't get any better than this.

Well now, the play date has barely started, and I get to smell like shit until noon. So much for image management.