The one where I'm dumb

So on Wednesday night we realized that James was way past due for a bath--he doesn't have that sweet baby smell anymore, he's full-on stinky boy. Anyway, I was doing some work on the computer while Ben bathed him. Ben went to get a wash cloth and when he walked back into the bathroom he yelled, "aaaahhh!" I asked what was wrong and he reported that James had pooped in the bathtub. Although we always expected to experience that rite of passage, it had never happened up to this point.

I jumped up and yelled, "Don't let him touch it!" (yeah, I am worried about germs and gross stuff all the time.) I ran into the kitchen wondering what I should use to get it out of the tub, because (TMI ALERT) that sucker was NOT going down the drain. The colander briefly passed through my mind, but I didn't want to have to throw it away, so I started chanting 'disposable, disposable, disposable.' Aha! The plastic cups in the high cupboard! I grabbed three cups (yes, 3) and raced to the bathroom.

Ben, holding onto the wet, slippery, laughing, LARGE 2 year old, asked me why I brought three cups. I had no answer, I just thought this was a three cup situation I guess. (Aside: a big, floating poop in the bathtub is WAY MORE DISGUSTING than a poop in a diaper. Why is that?) Anyway, I held my breath (don't know why) and scooped up the big poop in big, red, plastic cup number one. I held tight to cups 2 and 3.

Then I froze.

What was I going to do with the big, floating poop in the big, red cup? My mind started racing and these were my LITERAL thoughts "I could put it in the trash but then the water would probably drain out in the can. I could pour the water off in the sink, and then throw it away in the trash and quickly take the trash out. I could sneak outside and pour it under the bushes where all the naughty (older) kids play but that would be really rude and what if someone got some kind of disease from having human poo on their shoes and it gets on their hands when their mom makes them clean their shoes and then they get sick, that would be bad, I could..." SUDDENLY, something interrupts my line of thinking. It was Ben, and he says,

"Are you going to pour that in the toilet or are you just going to hold onto it?"

Pour it in the toilet? That was the thought that HADN'T occurred to me-despite the fact that I was straddling the toilet in my efforts to reach the poo. I sheepishly poured the goods into the toilet and threw all three cups into the trash, just for good measure.