We were about 15 minutes into the swimming lesson when my nose detected that familiar waft of stench. I grimaced. Rascal had done a poo in her swimming nappy. This was the third time she had done it and I didn’t enjoy the experience. At the end of the lesson, I dashed out of the pool, instead of chatting pleasantly with the other mums and leisurely exiting the pool as I usually did. I made a bee line to the pram, wrapped her in a spare towel and put her in.
As I powerwalked (you can’t run at the pool…) toward the family change rooms, I pondered the options. In the previous two occasions that she had done this, I had used alternate methods to solve the problem. One was to lay her down on a change table and, using about four thousand wipes, slowly take off the nappy whilst wiping constantly. On the other occasion the method was to hold her over my arm and carefully peel off the nappy. Not much was still on her bottom so I simply rinsed it under the running shower. The second option had been much easier so I headed for the shower room when I got to the change room. I peeled off her yellow polka-dot swimming costume while I got the shower to a pleasant temperature. Her nappy wafted at me and I scrunched up my nose. Then I took a deep, slow breath and headed toward the water stream.
I began to peel off the nappy, slowly and cautiously. I peered at her bottom, watching to see if anything was staying on it. Everything looked good so I proceeded with the plan. I eased the nappy smoothly down her legs, the contents staying safely within. Rascal sang to herself, as she hung there, draped on my arm. I held my breath and gave one final tug on the nappy.
I began to peel off the nappy, slowly and cautiously. I peered at her bottom, watching to see if anything was staying on it. Everything looked good so I proceeded with the plan. I eased the nappy smoothly down her legs, the contents staying safely within. Rascal sang to herself, as she hung there, draped on my arm. I held my breath and gave one final tug on the nappy.
"That’s when things stopped following the plan."
That’s when things stopped following the plan. Rascal, in her innocent way, gave a gleeful kick in the middle of her song. The nappy and its contents, which had, thus far, survived the removal process, were suddenly suspended in the air. It happened in slow motion. I managed to keep a hold of the nappy, but I was not so fortunate with the contents. Poo sprayed out of the nappy and down the wall of the change room, also flicking onto my leg. It was the worst possible outcome!
I screamed silently in horror and stuck my leg under the shower stream. I picked up the nappy and put it in a plastic bag, then began rinsing the wall with the hand held shower head. I rinsed Rascal off, wrapped her up in the towel and began to rinse the floor and myself again. It was extremely disgusting. I dressed Rascal warmly, then dressed myself and left the pool, sincerely hoping that I never have to deal with a pooey swimming nappy ever again!
Libby :)
I screamed silently in horror and stuck my leg under the shower stream. I picked up the nappy and put it in a plastic bag, then began rinsing the wall with the hand held shower head. I rinsed Rascal off, wrapped her up in the towel and began to rinse the floor and myself again. It was extremely disgusting. I dressed Rascal warmly, then dressed myself and left the pool, sincerely hoping that I never have to deal with a pooey swimming nappy ever again!
Libby :)
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