Let me preface this post with a disclaimer:
If you are squeamish when it comes to bodily functions, read no further.

Tuesday, October 4

2:47 a.m.
Lying on my bed, facing the door, I awaken to the sound of “pssssst” and see a set of small hazel eyes staring back at me. My affectionate and persuasive toddler asks to get into my bed.

He kisses my face and I give in, “OK, but just for a minute…”  And I promptly doze back off, forgetting I’m not alone.

5:20 a.m.
We are startled by a loud crash in my living room. I can hear my neighbors’ dogs barking as I tell my son to stay put while I go check it out. I realize that the beloved, 4-foot, light-up spiderweb that was affixed to my picture window has fallen, its weight no match for the packing tape and condensation on the glass.

I hear my son say “Mommy, fix it!” as I turn to see his little hazel eyes, once again, pleading with me. I sigh as I feel my way through the garage, rummaging for more tape.

Satisfied that the spiderweb has been properly hung, my son smiles and asks for waffles. I relent and turn on the coffee maker. This is going to be a long day.

I situate him on the couch, turn on his favorite show and go about my morning.

6:45 a.m.
I have cleaned the kitchen, made my bed and folded a load of laundry. I’m in the bathroom, attempting to shower when I hear the dreaded words, “Uh-oh, Mommy! There’s poop on my hand!”

I race into the living room. I see the smudge on his hand, I smell evidence of poop, but I cannot find any actual poop.

I clean him off.

Disgusted, I get down on my hands and knees and begin to search while asking questions. “Where is your diaper? When did this happen? Where were you? Did you hide it?”

My son shifts his hazel eyes to the floor. “Mommy, are you mad?”

I try my best to keep my composure and stifle the gags. “No baby, I just want to find it. Please help me.”

He replies, “It was just a little turd, mommy.” (His words, not mine.)

“What do you mean WAS? What happened to it? Where is it now?”

7:15 a.m.
I recruit some help from my canine neighbors. No luck.

8:45 a.m. 
Still no poop to be found. I have no choice but to take my son next door to my parents’ house and leave for work. I will continue the hunt when I get home.

11:00 p.m.
After another fruitless search, I give up and go to bed.

October 5, 2016

9:00 a.m.
I change clothes and decide to get some exercise before starting my work day. Ear buds in place, I head to the front door to retrieve my running shoes. I insert my left foot into the shoe.

The search is over. I suppose my shoes needed to be washed anyway.


I share this story for several reasons.

  1. To embarrass my son at some opportune time in the future.
  2. To keep in mind that life happens. Mornings can go awry. Plans can change. You may not be able to control what happens, but you can control how you respond. And if you look hard enough, there’s usually a silver lining, find more about us.
  3. To remember that laughter is still the best medicine.

Speaking of laughter, on October 25th, KPCC will host the 23rd annual Dent Dinner fundraiser at the Embassy Suites in Charleston. Comedian magician Mac King will be our entertainer. Mac’s show has been regarded as one of the top 5 shows in all of Las Vegas for the past 10 years.

So laugh with us. Help us raise funds and say thank you to our supporters. Join us as we come together for a common purpose and make a difference in the lives of others. 

Purchase Dent Dinner Tickets

This is a family friendly event. Everyone is welcome. Dress up. Dress down. It doesn’t matter. Just make sure you check inside your shoes before putting them on.