Home > motherhood, poop > Mortified


My mother likes to use that word, “Mortified.” To her, public embarrassment is pretty much the cardinal sin. I never got into so much trouble as a teen as I did when I would do something and mom would notice someone noticing it and get embarrassed. It wasn’t so much that I’d behaved badly as that someone had seen me behaving badly.

So, in my foolish motherly innocence, I swore to never be embarrassed by my kid.

Heh. Go ahead, laugh. I know better now.

It hasn’t happened that often, but it happened yesterday. I was at Penzey’s yesterday, stocking up on my Christmas baking spices. (There is no comparison between good, fresh cinnamon and stale supermarket cinnamon. And don’t get me started on ground ginger.) The Child had had a rough night and it took us a while but we finally figured out it was because she had gas. Awful terrible stinking gas. No idea what I fed her that reacted that way, but it was … noxious.

But she hadn’t farted since lunchtime and she’d already had her morning poop — she’s like her mother, very regular that way — and it was late afternoon, so I didn’t fret too much when I decided to go out. I was only going to be gone an  hour and had changed her right before I left so I was okay.

I was in the chili section when the smell hit me. Oh, god, i thought, glancing over at the older woman browsing in the mulling spices. The poor lady has something wrong with her tummy.

Then I scooped up The Child and put her on the counter while I signed the credit card slip. Whoa! That was my kid, not the old lady, I thought. One hell of a fart.

Then I looked down and realized that there was a damp spot on her overalls.

Not only had she pooped, she’d had a diaper blowout. And she had left a smear of wet on the counter at the best spice store in New England.  I surreptitiously wiped the smear with my kerchief and then looked up to see the cashier (who had been very friendly) frowning mightily at me.

Wow. Total mortification.

Categories: motherhood, poop
  1. karriew
    November 30, 2007 at 8:02 pm


    Makes the cat projectile vomiting all over the inside of my car, and the again inside the vet yesterday seem downright hygenic.

    On the bright side, they’ll forget by the time you return.

  2. December 1, 2007 at 1:46 pm

    kerchief? break out the baby wipes and the purell…! if you’re like me, that would have been the ONE TIME I’d forgotten to restock on the extra change of clothes kept in the car/diaperbag….always an adventure.

  3. Wendy
    December 1, 2007 at 2:42 pm

    Oh, that woman knows she has left a wet one somewhere before. Me? I would be happy that it wasn’t me with the noxious fumes coming out of my butt.

  4. jamanda
    December 4, 2007 at 6:40 pm

    C’tina — yeah, it was the one time (okay, not the *only* time) I was out without the Purell and wipes. I had extras… in the car. And thank God I did since I had to strip her down to her skin to get all the dirty clothes off. But my emergency diaper kit in my bag had fallen out a week before into a puddle and I kept forgetting to restock it. Naturally!

  5. December 4, 2007 at 11:51 pm

    Heh! we’ve all been there…

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