As we were splashing away another Mummy held her baby aloft, exiting the pool declaring “she’s done a poo. I’m sure of it”. The instructor congratulated her on her keen bond with her child. “Well done on spotting it! A Mother just knows, don’t they?” Do they?
The class finished and Rory and I dashed into the shower cubicle. It’s always stressful trying to get him ready after the class so I thought it easier just to whip off his nappy, give him a quick shower and get him dressed back at the poolside. So there I was, trying to adjust the shower to level between scalding and ice and wrestling off his skin tight swim shorts. If only I could just get this last leg out….
It was then it happened. That scene from the film. You know the one.
The force of my nappy removal caused a ricochet effect which sprayed the phantom shit straight up and across Rory and I. Both of us. Head to toe. In actual shit.
I immediately panicked and switched the shower on to full icy cold mode which made Rory go mental and me to drop the shower head which then sprayed water over us as we screamed and clung on to each other in shock.
It literally couldn’t get any worse so I just hosed the worst of it off, shut the door on that cubicle and advised the cleaner that she might want to give the shower “a little disinfect” for good measure.
I threw my clothes on and we got out out of there. I returned to the car and messaged an update to my Mummy friends and Simon who all thought it was hilarious.
Simon is taking Rory swimming in Monday. Let’s just hope he doesn’t put in a repeat performance!