Not that long ago, my babysitter (the salami eater) asked me how many times my daughter had pooped in the tub. “Never!” I said with much disgust. “Well, it happens all the time,” she informed me. (She does this a lot…tells me all the things that my kid is going to do, even though she doesn’t have any.) My daughter had just passed her one-year birthday, so I just rolled my eyes, and went about my business.

Now I am not saying for sure that she put a Poop Curse on me, but let’s just say we have had several incidents of pooping in the bathtub since that night. And tonight was by far, the top pooping story of my short-lived career as a mommy.

I undressed my daughter, put her in the tub, and turned on the water. Not 30 seconds later, she poops. Ok, no big deal. It is contained to a very small area, so I grab her out, and put her on the mat next to me.

As I am feverishly saving toys from floating into the disaster area, she squats, and poops on the bath mat. WHA?? CRAP! So, I grab her, wipe her little butt with a baby wipe, and then head over to snatch up the mat before she gets any crazy baby ideas.

I of course do not notice that she is heading in a completely opposite direction….into my closet. Before I can even get there, she has squatted yet again, and pooped on the carpet in my closet. And then she takes about three steps, and poops again.

Surprisingly, I did not cry. I didn’t laugh, but I didn’t have a meltdown. I calmly called my hubby into the bathroom to pick up poop piles while I hosed my little angel off in the shower.

So, there are two morals to this story: 1.) parenting know-it-alls are secretly working voodoo on the rest of us, and 2.) Do not ever assume that the pooping is done. There is ALWAYS more poop.