I woke up to my daughter shouting ‘Boo!’ at the side of my bed. My husband had left me to sleep in whilst he caught up on Match Of The Day upstairs with the baby. I picked her up and gave her a cuddle. Lovely…or not?
I could smell something.
‘Darling? Have you done a fart?’
My daughter laughs and shakes her head. Fart is quite a funny word in the eyes of my toddler right now.
I shouted upstairs to my husband, asking him if she’d done a poo recently. He said no, but that she had been alone in her bedroom for a while.
I quickly rushed into the kids bedroom. I don’t know why I rushed as it obviously wouldn’t have changed anything.
Over the floor, over her bed, on her pillows. Oh look, some actually made it into the potty!
I cleaned it up, changed the sheets, opened the window and shut the door. But why could I still smell it? I had washed my hands, but did it again just in case. I turn to my daughter.
‘Mama, I couldn’t find any wipes so I came to you!’
Of course she did.