Sitcom Perfect

     There was water on baby girls floor and it wasn't pee, thank goodness. And here is how I know:

You're so funny Mom.

     First of all, because I had been with her all morning, and second of all, because it was up against the wall which is a really hard place to have an accident.
     I could also tell you the smell and temperature were wrong but that might be TMI.
     So I checked the utility closet next to her room and found the pan under the water heater was over flowing. (It turned out that it had to do with condensation from the AC but that is only marginally relevant.)
Which is why at 3:00 pm a very nice plumber shows up at my house to fix the problem. This is the most amazing thing my baby girl has ever seen in her life so I spend the next hour and a half trying to keep her from sitting next to this strange man, touching his tools, and asking a steady stream of questions while he tries to work in the tiny cramped hall way where the utility closet is.
     I am also trying to get the toys out from under his feet, keep up with the little prince who wants to play in the wet carpet, and get things ready for dinner in the messy kitchen.
     I finally give them both a snack and thus wrangle a full five minutes of time to clear the counters and set out suppers ingredients.
     By this time it is 4:15 or so. You know what that means. Nothing good happens at that time of day. Nothing!

What are they feeding you?

     So I've been hearing some… shall we say straining noises... from the prince so I figure he is done and I'll go change him before I actually start cooking.
     I pick him up, walk to the changing table, lie him down and feel some thing strange on my arm. I look down and see that the diaper has leaked, to put it kindly, all over my shirt and I just put my arm in it.  We are talking a blob of ick... smeared. I look at the baby and can't tell where the ick coming from so...
    When you are unable to asses the extremeness of the fecal situation your best move is to take it all to the tub to try to contain... or, moderate... or at least have a smooth, non-absorptive surface and access to water.
     So, I dangle the baby by the underarms, not wanting to smish him back into the smear and head for the bathroom... and then change course for the other bathroom.
     Dangling baby can't be cleaned off in the bathroom that the plumbers using to empty his shop vac and poop smeared Momma really can't strip in a room with no access to clean clothes... so the other bathroom it is...
     ...where there is no tub... where the is only one towel.... in what amounts to a 4x4 room... where the hot water takes a good 5 minutes to arrive since its on the other side of the house. Yep. Trying to clean poop shrapnel in there? Not ideal… to say the least.
     So we get showered off and I wrap the prince in the towel.
     From my room, where I am frantically trying to get dressed, I hear the continual chatter that has become the hallmark of my little girl getting closer and closer to my door. And then, knock, knock, yes... there is a plumber knocking at my door, while I'm naked, after being covered in poop, and then, of course the three year old opens to door, telling the man, "My Mommy's in here." as I yell "Just a minute!"
I manage to slam the door in her poor little face, throw on some clothes, and have a reasonable conversation with the plumber, while holding a baby wrapped in a towel, after a brief apology and an attempt at an explanation.
You can't make this stuff up.
Moral of the story... there is no moral... unless it's that plumbers and babies don't mix.