Tuesday, 17 January 2012

Shit: Bloggers say it, toddlers do it.

At first, I didn't understand why my sister Linda text me a picture of her drinking a delicious coffee from Harry's in Bondi.

                                ... until I noticed the penis.

I love my sisters. We call each other bro, discipline each others kids, laugh the laugh of a thousand maniacs. Last night I cooked them both chicken schnitzel for dinner. We laughed the whole way through, right up until 10.30pm when we tried to take a decent photo of the the three of us together. It was impossible.

I kept them up til midnight before they both flaked ... a personal best. Today we went to the beach. I was standing right on the edge of the water, watching Rocco, turned around .. and saw him under the water. Ripped my skirt off I wailed ROCCO and went running in ... Leigh's like, mate he's right there, he's fine.

I collapsed, shaky and sick with adrenaline. Still with no skirt on.

When we came back, Rocco ended up shitting throughout the entirety of Leigh's house. I tried to back-track and see where ground zero was - like an episode of toddler CSI. It was not possible. There was poo under the dining room table, poo all over the floorboards of my nieces bedroom, smears over both rugs. Trails of poo. Nuggets and turds everywhere. I ran to Leigh, innocently filling up the kiddy pool.

"Mate you will never know what happened after I clean it I promise. Now where is your mop and can I throw out this t-shirt?"

Rocco had made attempts to clean up said poo, and grabbed a shirt of his cousins which was embedded with .... fibres. Seemingly from a horse.

Leigh gagged. On my way to the laundry I accidentally smeared a bit on their bbq cover too. It was like, Hansel and Gretel for scatlovers. The whole house stank. I mopped everywhere with vinegar. I kept apologising.

I'll bring Rocco back for a sleepover when he's five. I love my children but will never get over the shock of cleaning up other human beings bodily fluids. One of the rugs is so bad ... it's sitting out the front of her house, going to the tip tomorrow. I will be buying her a new one.

Vale, Ikea rug.

Halfway through the clean-up I was so enraged, I went outside and leant down to Rocco and almost popped an embolism. "MUMMY DOES NOT LIKE CLEANING UP YOUR POO! PLEASE DO NOT DO THIS AGAIN!" I looked up to see the new French guy right there, Leighs new tenant. She was shaking with laughter. I told her I could not say hello right now and walked off .. to a professional skype call. With poo-fingers.


I have other sisters too .... my bloggy sisters. Please meet Beth from BabyMac, Nikki from Styling You, Mrs Woog from Woogsworld, Bianca from Bigwords, and Glow from Glowless.

I much prefer saying shit than cleaning it up.



  1. Thank you. I laughed and laughed at the reminder of the terrible havoc toddlers can create with poo. Now 2yr old in no hurry to toilet train and you know what? I can wait til he's six if it means none of that!

  2. I have that exact Ikea rug in Miss 2's room. I may never look at in the same way!

  3. That's it. I'm coming to Australia. You girls are HYSTERICAL!!!! I'm sorely in need of a laugh so hard I wet myself :-)


Write to be understood, speak to be heard. - Lawrence Powell

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