Opportunities present themselves in the oddest places. My kids love Play-Doh, most notably my 3 year old where it's been elevated to the status of gourmet food. This week she's been begging non-stop to play with it. After months of banning the stuff, I finally give in. "You're not going to eat it, are you?" "No, Mommy." Not wanting to tempt her, I give her one can. I reiterate that it is not to eat. She happily squishes, forms, stamps and creates. I work on other things while chatting with my friend Kristin. Suddenly, something is horribly wrong. My little girl is crying in agony, clutching her middle as she makes her way to the toilet. I scramble to assist her, trying to figure out why she's in pain."Mommy, there's Play-Doh in my butt!"
Her hands are covered in Play-Doh, which is now covering my toilet seat and anything else she touches. Emotionally I'm in an odd cross of concern for my child, pity because she hurts, and trying not to laugh. I wipe her gently, attempt to clean off the seat (with her on it), and diagnose her problem. I conclude either constipation or travelling bowels. All my baby can do is sob hysterically that Play-Doh is in her butt. Kristin starts laughing, which starts me laughing. I attempt to regain composure with little success. Shortly thereafter the pain subsides. For a brief second I consider resassuring her, but Mommy-brain took over. "Are you going to eat Play-Doh anymore?" She solemnly shood her head no.
