Poor Rubies

“Irony is just honesty with the volume cranked up.”

George Saunders

I made a big mistake the other night.  I took Fig’s diaper off and let her dance around the living-room in her birthday suit.  It was just before the girls’ bath and she was only going to be naked for a few minutes, so I thought it was safe.  I was wrong.  In the time it took me to walk to the bathroom to start running the water for their tub, Fig had pooped.  Luckily, the healthy mountain of waste was on the floor, about five inches from the carpet.  I called my husband in for support and he took the girls to the bathroom while I cleaned and disinfected the floor.

That evening, I was so tired and sick that I went to bed right after the girls fell asleep.  My husband worked in his shop for awhile, but he turned in early as well.  My point is, neither of us spent time in the living room that night.

The following morning  I was sitting on the couch reading a book with Fig, and Pip was dancing around the living room in her ruby red slippers.  “Mama, I think Fig had a poop!” said Pip with a sour look on her face.  I leaned over to Fig and inhaled.  Sweetness.

“I don’t think so, Pip.  Fig smells fine.”

“No she doesn’t Mama, I can smell poop.”  I got up and walked over to where Pip was standing.  I looked down at the carpet and realized, with great remorse, that we had overlooked a small portion of Fig’s deposit from the night before.  It had blended into the design of our Indian carpet beautifully, but it looked disturbed, as though someone had been standing in it…..NO….NOT THE RUBY SLIPPERS!!!!  I tried to remain calm for the sake of the children.

“Pip, I found a bit of Fig’s poop from last night on the carpet, and I’m afraid there may be some poop on your rubies.  You’d better take them off and let me check.”

“Oh no, Mama, there is poop!  There is Fig-poop on my rubies!!!!”

“It’s okay, Sweetie, I’ll be able to wash them.  It’s not a problem.”  I wasn’t nearly as confident as I sounded.  The slippers are sparkly and textured; not the kind of shoe you can dip into soapy water or throw in the washing machine.  This was going to be a delicate operation.  In the meantime,  I was impressed with Pip’s reaction.  She calmly handed her shoes over to me and stared at the messy carpet.  Fig was quite interested as well.

“Poop, Mama.”

“Yes, you’re right Fig, it’s poop.  Don’t touch it girls, Mama has to clean it up.”  As I cleaned Fig’s fecal matter for the second time in twelve hours,  I was struck by the irony of the situation;  Pip had only been wearing her ruby slippers indoors so that they wouldn’t get dirty.

After cleaning the carpet, I went to work on the shoes.  You’ll be glad to know that an old toothbrush and some careful cleaning did the trick.  The rubies are back on Pip’s feet, and the diaper is back on Fig’s bottom; for good.