In all my experiences of motherhood, in my illustrious 15 year career, I have dealt with lots of poop.
I have scrubbed poop off of walls, cribs and carpets (get it well it's still wet, when it dries it becomes plaster.)
I have scrubbed hallways with trails of watery diarrhea from bedrooms to bathrooms.
I have changed mountains of diapers,
and cloth diapered- washing poop off in sinks and toilets before laundering them.
and I have routinely emeamed my son with sacral agensis.
I have dealt with lots of poop.
But today- I got a new one.
We sat down for lunch and Roo was eating. He left the table for a few minutes then came back and began to eat again (with his fingers). Only this time I smelled pooh. I looked over and saw Roo eating with brown hands.
"Roo, what's on your hands?" I asked.
I walked closer and it was definitively pooh.
There was no other sign of pooh- no dog pooh to play with, no pooh on the floor, just a little in his diaper. He must have stuck his hands in there to see what he made for that minute he was away from the table.- Kids at this age do that all the time. They just don't usually try to eat lunch with their hands that way.