I was so mad on Sunday that I could have shoved The Cat out the door without a second thought. We’ve had our differences. He walks around the house and caterwauls (how about that word? I learned it from MommyK). He hates his food regardless of what kind we try. He hates his litter, though we are always trying “better” brands and even bought a self-cleaning litter box. Still, he often poops on the floor (in the unfinished basement). We recently made him a cat door so that he can go in and out of the basement as he pleases.
Now that The Baby is older, I feel comfortable NOT watching him like a hawk every second. Don’t get me wrong, I am always in the room; I just no longer hover over him as he walks or crawls around. If he’s playing with his ball in the entry or dining room and I’m in the living room, that’s okay. We have our home baby proofed and we have security gates so that he only really has access to the living room and dining room. Aside from the table and chairs, which are tethered together so The Baby can’t knock them over (I’m serious), there is nothing in the dining room besides a rug. I let The Baby roam out there as it’s attached to the living room and because it’s pretty much empty.
On Sunday, he pushed a toy to the dining room and was babbling. I was reading “Baby Laughs,” and feeling all motherly and whatnot. Then it happened. I heard nothing. Really, to a mother is there anything as loud as the sound of nothing? I threw the book aside and ran to the dining room. There on the corner of the rug was a pile of cat crap. Also on the corner of the rug was my son. There was poo on his fingers and on his MOUTH. I had a wet paper towel in my hand and the poop cleaned off my son and off the floor in six and a half seconds. I grabbed The Baby and washed his hands and face at the sink for a really, really long time. I think I might have actually been going “puh, puh” every time I tried to splash water into his mouth.
I felt guilty. I should have been watching. But I never factored poop into the equation. I wanted to kill The Cat. I collected myself and assured myself that, well, shit happens. Then I brushed the cat crap out of my son’s teeth.