...to announce that, after more than a week of sifting through the PCP's poop, Honey did the honors of finally pronouncing "Houston, we have a MIGHTY BEAN"!
If y'all could have seen the four of us huddled around the potty holding our noses and grinning from ear to ear over a poop covered toy you probably would have had us committed. For days on end I've dreaded each day's bowel movement, hoping and praying that Honey would be around to save me from simultaneously gagging and doing the "Burnette Tuck" (a little trick we picked up from Honey's college bestie RBB where you pull your shirt up over your nose in stinky situations) while searching for the darned thing.
And while I shudder to think at how much this err in judgement is going to cost me between the emergency room visit and the urgent care visit for follow up x-rays, the PCP has been receiving all sorts of accolades from his friends. You have no idea how many "NO WAY, you're going to poop out a Mighty Bean" and "that's AWESOME!" exclamations I've heard in the last week.
Oh, and should any of you find yourself in this unenviable position of having to search through your child's poop after they swallowed a toy/coin/paperclip/what-have-ya, I had my method down to a science (after a few abominable attempts.)
1. Before you leave the hospital/urgent care, ask for a potty seat... the thing that is used for collecting urine and other gross specimens. I'm sure this will cost us, but it was worth every penny.
2. Line the entire seat in LOADS of press and seal. Get it down in the bowl of the seat too.
3. Carry the seat with you in a large zip top bag. Everywhere you go. Like a crazy person. You never know when the moment might strike. And the last thing in the world you want to be doing is mashing through poop in the bowl of a Wal Mart toilet.
4. After the deed has been done, carefully lift up the press and seal and lightly seal it up. Drop it into your zip top bag. Close the bag. Mush it all around in search of the "foreign body" (as they called it in the ER).
I never, in all my days, EVER dreamed I'd be moved to write about such a foul subject for all the world to read. Of course, I never, EVER EVER dreamed I'd have a son who'd think swallowing a toy would be cool. And I certainly never, EVER EVER EVER dreamed I'd have a husband that would save the (cleaned and sanitized) toy for the baby box. :-)
This vacation just got a LOT more relaxing (and a LOT less stinky)!
xoxo
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