Poonami 2010

My learned friends at the Collins English Dictionary define a Tsumani as follows:

a large, often destructive, sea wave, usually caused by an earthquake under the sea 

My poonami version:

a large, often destructive, poo wave, usually caused by a child removing their nappy PRIOR to the poo wave hitting land.

The other day, I went to wake my sleeping beauties from their afternoon nap.  I got the first inklings that something wasn't right when I neared the top of the stairs and could smell something quite wrong.  The closer I got, the worse it got.

Upon entering the room (bravely, minus a gas mask) Mstr2 is awake and smiling - typical that he saves his best behaviour for an audience of one sleeping twin sister in a darkened room.  So it's definitely not him, because he screams his head off at any opportunity, and this would've been a prime excuse for him to let rip with a blood curdling holler.

Miss2 is blissfully asleep, looking deceptively angelic.

As I go to turn the light on, I trip over something....Miss2's nappy.  Fan-freaking-tastic.  

Lights on and there's her brown backside winking up at me while she sleeps.  Her rear is completely clean.  It is the only single thing, ironically, that is completely clean and poo-free.

A poonami of epic proportions has hit land.  The aftermath is both tragic and horrifying.  At this stage there are 3 survivors, but I'm not sure how long we can hold out without decent oxygen (fresh poo-free air) and sanitation (LOTS of baby wipes).

Miss2 has removed her nappy as soon as she went down for her nap - as evidenced by the completely clean and dry nappy laying outside her cot.  That's useful...

Somehow, in her sleep, the poonami has struck, leaving a path of devastation -

It covers her hair, her back, her front, her arms and legs, everything on her person except her actual backside.

The poonami has extended to innocent bystanders - Puss Cat (RIP little buddy, unless I can Napisan the crap out of you - ho ho, literal joke), Dolly (with the brown hair that used to be blonde), and the rest of the stuffed inhabitants (hey, I'm on a roll...another literal joke).

All amenities are a write off - muslin wraps, sheets, blankets - all lost (I'm not prepared to try washing something I can replace for $5 - $10 each, when I'd probably spend double that on trying to sanitise and clean them).

Structurally, we are salvageable.  The tide-mark of the poonami is showing on the walls of the cot.    There is evidence it has attempted to break it's barriers - like a dam - as it has been pushed into the netting on the side of the cot (oh, by the way - this is a porta cot, not a wooden cot - hugely grateful I was too lazy to make up the normal cot for today's afternoon nap...).  Thankfully, the dam-style barriers held and the carpet is poo-free.

While assessing the damage and planning my salvage mission, I have rescued the survivors.  Mstr2 thinks it's all quite hilarious, and is happy to watch and yell out "bad, bad" at his sister.  I've removed Miss2, who is quite perplexed as to what all the fuss is about, and after using an entire pack of baby wipes on her, I've bathed her with half a bottle of baby bath and used half a bottle of shampoo on her hair.

On returning to the disaster zone, I've removed all damaged items.  When I get to the foundations (the mattress), I realise Miss2 has pulled up her sheets and spread some on the mattress.  Thankfully, being a porta cot, it's just a foam mattress so it's no big deal.  So I haughtily pull the mattress out, fuming and dry retching at the same time, gagging on my own fury.  The mattress flies up and smacks me in the stomach...and it stays there....held to me by the pile of crap that has been smeared UNDERNEATH the mattress.

Miss2 hasn't slept through it at all - she has woken up at some point and gone all 'Pro Hart' on me, and spread the poo over everything - deliberately - deftly lifting up the sheets and mattress and ensuring the poonami is spread to every single bloody corner of the cot.  LITERALLY.

I am shaking by this point, on the verge of tears.  There is poo seeping through my T shirt.  Foam mattress in the bin.  My T shirt in the bin.  Remainder of household toiletries disposed of in cleaning up the clean up crew (me).

I may require counselling after such an epic disaster.  I may just hold a Telethon to raise funds for my counselling (and the clothing Miss2 and I need to replace, along with the disposed of bedding).  The good news story out of this disaster is the heroic survival of Puss Cat.  He is a true fighter, and made it through his Napisan sanitisation/treatment like a trooper (largely because I couldn't bloody find a new one - they don't make them anymore....just my luck).

RIP Dolly, clothing and bedding unable to survive the poonami.  You will be sadly missed and fondly remembered (and joyously replaced, hello retail therapy!).