So we were playing a hot game of Skipbo and I was about to win my 3rd (count 'em... 1, 2, 3! Tara, you're goin' down New Years!!!) game, and Addie says from across the kitchen, "You guys stay there and play cards, 'kay?".
And I think, what does that mean? Where's she going? But in 2 year old language, it's not exactly where is she going, but what is she doing? I turn around and she is huddled in the corner next to the cabinets with an unmistakable "I'm pushing poop out" look on her face.
"GO GO GO!" my husband and I leap up, grab the kid and rush to the bathroom. With the skill of an elite commando team, one of us whips down her pants, the other shoves the training seat on the potty, but as I hear the velcro ripped from her diaper, visions of a turd rolling out gives me pause and I scream "STOP! IT'S ALREADY OUT!"
And my husband screams "SHE'S STILL POOPING!!! GET HER ON THE POTTY!!!!"
And I scream "NO!!! IT'S GOING TO FALL OUT!!!"
And he screams "I GOT IT! I GOT IT!! 1-2-3 GO! GO! GO!".
And I slide the full diaper out from between her legs and he lifts her onto the potty as the second poop drops in... just in time. I'm left with a steaming baseball in the diaper in my hand, waiting to put it in the toilet.
What an ordeal. Yeah, you guys just sit over there and play cards... never mind me dropping the deuce, 4 feet away!