Who needs diapers?

Mirjam's working tonight, so I'm on William duty. We raked the yard and went on a walk. I fed him whatever I could find in the fridge and the cupboard. Then he plugged his nose, which is the sign we're trying to re-teach him when he needs to go to the bathroom.

I pulled off his sweatshirt, t-shirt, and pants, undid his onsie and diaper, and set him on the trainer seat. He hung out there for a while, flushed the toilet with nothing in it, said "bah bah" and grunted for me to help him down off the seat. Since he was already naked, I filled the bathtub with water and set him in it.

As I was eating a bowl of frosted mini wheats, he looked up from the tub and plugged his nose again. I ran in the bathroom, plucked him right out of the water, and set him back on his throne. Nothing. I thought he was just toying with me, as he does occasionally (little stinker), so I put him back in the tub and started to wipe down the kitchen counter.

When I looked back in, I saw William making the subtle strained pushing face that we noticed he does when he's filling his diaper. But he wasn't wearing a diaper. I leapt toward the tub desperately pleading "wait, wait!" but it was too late.

As I grabbed him up out of the tub, I saw the little William poop floating there on the side. Crap. I missed it. Just barely. At least it was still in one piece. We've dealt with much worse tub-poop-hand situations, so this was actually a relief.

I put him back on the kiddie seat, guessing that there might be a little more on the way, grabbed a big wad of toilet paper off the roll and recovered the evidence from the scene. I flushed the toilet, set William standing up on the dark green towel next to the tub, and started draining the tub while confiscating the blue rubby ducky and bottle that were also floating in the water.

When I returned from putting the items on the dishwasher--no joke, two seconds later; ten feet away--I moved William off the green towel to find one last tiny little piece of brown poop-ball where he had been standing. I can't win.

He looked a little cold, so I quickly cleaned his bum with baby wipes, wrapped him in a big dark red towel, and set him on the couch. I went to find a diaper and his white "vroom" pajamas, and met him back at the couch. I unwrapped the towel and noticed a large dark spot on the towel between his legs. He peed on my couch!

I couldn't believe it. I wrapped up the freshly cleaned and newly soiled red towel, laid him on the altar, uh, I mean ottoman, and slapped the diaper on--as if it would have made a difference at that point. There is a minor consolation in that William's pee is usually quite clear and watered down. Still, I thoroughly wiped the couch with a wet towel as I recapped in my mind what had just happened:

1. Ignored warning signs--poop in tub
2. Turned away for two seconds--poop ball on green towel
3. No immediate diaper--pee on red towel and couch

I hugged him and kissed him and read him a book and put him to bed.