Thursday, February 28, 2013

Occasionally, I'm just too embarrassed to tell the wife...

So, my youngest son likes to sit on a particular heating vent in the corner of his room.

He loves this thing.  He will sit or stand on it, warming the pertinent body part, especially in the morning when it's a bit cold in his room and we are trying to get the other kids ready for school.

This morning, of course, our rather sick 2 year old is sitting in his favorite spot when he overflows his diaper with diarrhea.  A rather neutral colored, light tan, with small to moderate chunks, should you care to know (this becomes important later).  Katie found him with "stuff" running down his bum and--you guessed it--into the vent.

So I am called in my manly capacity of "corrector of all things house-related" to clean up the poo in the vent.  Fortunately, there is a short segment of ductwork that runs horizontally before a vertical shaft drops directly into the main airshaft, allowing localization of what could have been a whole-house catastrophe.

A few paper towels later I have most of it cleaned up.  I call the oldest boy to bring a flashlight so that I can evaluate need for further cleanup.  As you can see in the picture above, this vent is in the corner of the room and not exceptionally well-lit.  So you really have to crank your way around this thing, and get very low to the carpet, to see in it.

As I am peering into the poorly lit but highly odiferous hole, I note with initial dismay a cool/wet sensation on my forehead as it touches the carpet just on the wall side of the hole.  Dead center, right at the hairline, in point of fact.

For those who have not seen me in a while, "right at the hairline" is likely further north than you are currently thinking.

So I sit up with a dime sized spot of poo that nearly perfectly matches the color of the carpet centered in the above named area on my head.  And for once, I am thankful that "right at the hairline" represents considerably more distance than it did in days of yore.

I am additionally thankful for the entire roll of paper towels situated conveniently near my side.  And for the fact that the wife and kids left soon after, enabling the second shower of the day.

At times I am convinced that my wife thinks I am just this side of completely incompetent when it comes to household chores.  And I just could not bear adding further evidence to the "loser" side of the balance sheet this morning. Now that sufficient time, soap, shampoo, and sundry other cleaning agents have been successfully applied, I am feeling more confident.

Hope your day has gone better than mine, dear reader.