Daddy Day

Today involved something of a baptism of fire for me today. I feel like I can now proudly call myself a full fledged daddy. Even when out on the town. (Warning, this post involves unbelievable amounts of poop.)

The weather started cool this morning. At least in our house. It lacks windows to the east and the southern exposures are pretty well covered so it stays very cool in the morning. Unfortunately this causes me to assume that it's about twenty degrees cooler than it is. So I dressed the kids for sleet and we went somewhere indoors.
I don't want to name the location. I'm afraid someone from there will see this on Google. Which wouldn't be good. Anyway, we went to a mall that has an honest to God play area. It's not a place I'd been to before but I'd heard of it. So we went and walked around and finally found the area. Felix had fallen asleep so I got out the Kindle and let Relia play with the other little girls that were there.
After about an hour she said that she might need to poop. Every experienced parent knows that the distance between 'might' and 'will' is very short. I hustled her out of there to the very near restroom. On the way I asked her if she already had and she assured me that she hadn't.
Into the bathroom and she shut herself in the lone stall. We were the only ones in there. I asked her how it was going and she said, "it's kind of a mess". My spirits sank and I asked if she'd already gone. "A little," she said. I mentally wrote the panties off and wondered just how bad this would be. Then she told me she needed help and I had to talk her off the potty so she could unlock the door for me.
Holy. Cats. I didn't know that one little girl could hold so much poop inside of her. And it was all over. The panties were a huge mess. As was her pants. And the front of the toilet. And her legs. It was the Poop-apocalypse. My mind raced and I realized that all of this poop was now my responsibility.
That really is the true definition of this period of parenthood. 'The time when you are responsible for all of someone else's poop and pee.' You can't run from it. You can't hide from it. The best you can hope for is to coax it into the proper receptacle.
Which obviously hadn't worked this time.

I had her stand still and I cleaned her as best I could with the half-ply paper that was on offer. I fished clean panties and pants out of the diaper bag and set them aside. And then found a different pair of backup panties that could be used to actually do the wiping.
Just as I started there was a knock at the door from a mall employee who wanted to clean up in there. I asked her to come back and sent the biggest mental 'I'm sorry!' that I could. Eventually I got her as clean as I could and into the other clothes. There would be a bath at home and both sets of clothes would need to be washed. But she was at least presentable while we made an absolute beeline to the car.
While I wouldn't have wished for this (and dearly hope that it isn't repeated) it felt good afterwards. Life handed me a tough situation and I was able to parent my way through it.
But please, no more tests like this for a very long time, ok?