Vomit, Feces

One night this week these two horrible things happened:

1. For Mardi Gras we decorated John's wagon with this long, multicolored tinsel-type stuff, all flashy and metallic. One night this week John decided the decorations needed to come off the wagon and be shredded. A long, narrow strip of this stuff ended up dropped in front of Roxy. Roxy eats everything that comes out of John's hands and she is very, very stupid. She gobbled the metallic strip of decoration down.

Not five minutes later Roxy's standing in the kitchen, head down, tail down, making the familiar "hup hup hup" sound of impending vomitude. Out came whatever bric-a-brac Roxy had eaten in the last few hours along with the decoration.

Which she proceeded to eat again.

This did not seem like a cycle I wanted to encourage. With just an inch or so of the thing hanging out of her mouth I bent down and yanked it out. I pulled and pulled and Roxy looked most distressed but finally it came out.

And that wasn't the worst thing that happened that night.

2. John was taking his bath. He was standing up and playing with his toys, as he is wont to do.

I don't know when it happened, but I looked down and there was a big piece of crap, floating in the water. Other, smaller pieces of crap bobbed up and down nearby. John was backing away slowly, not sure what this new thing was in his bath.

I wasn't sure how to handle it, but I knew I needed backup. I yelled for Sonya.

The combination of the yelling and the surprising appearance of organic filth in the tub was too much for John. He started wailing and will probably never poop in my presence again.

[Not true, of course. He's pooped several times in my presence since. Not in the tub, though. Therefore: Mission Accomplished!]

So Sonya held the wet and wailing boy while I bleached the tub and his toys. He was happy and smiling by the end of the bath. Hopefully we avoided the long-term psychological toilet-related damage.