Alright then. I am giving an advanced warning for this post. It contains poo and nudity. In that order. So if you are at all squeamish, now would be a good time to turn away.
Alight then, but don't say I didn't warn you...
Yesterday was a windy day in Brisbane. A beautiful,windy,sunny,spring day. I just love spring in Queensland. Summer isn't quite my cup of tea.. its just to darn hot and humid. Everything wilts, dries out and takes on a permanent brown, crispy colour. People included.
But spring...Oh I love spring. The sky is blue, the grass is green, and with a lovely breeze blowing its not to hot to play outside... Which brings me (albeit in a round about way) to the problem of windy days.
It was such lovely warm, windy day that after the boys nap and lunch, i decided that a dose of 'nappy free' time was in order. Now, nappy free time is always a trifle dangerous, even for a single baby. Add two boy babies, who are now both mobile and enjoy nothing more than standing up and cruising along the nice cream, freedom lounge suites and you have a situation rife with potential disaster. Yet I didn't enter into nappy free time without thought. I had a plan... strip the boys in the living room and head straight outside the front door into our new deluxe sandpit (thats for another post..) where they could soak up some spring sunshine and any little 'leaks' wouldn't be an issue. After stripping off both boys and opening the front door I realised that their peaches and creamy skin would need some sort of protectant - to the bathroom cupboard for the sunscreen I went. After rummaging around in the depths of the bathroom cupboard (must get around to sorting that out one day) I walked back up the hall way to be confronted with the most hideous smell....and sight.
One of the boys, (I have yet to determine which one, although I am leaning towards Master Bear) had obviously felt the need 'to go' and I am not talking about number 'ones'.... Needless to say, the image (and odour) is one that I am still trying to get out of my head...and my cream couch....and my wool carpet.
Scooping both boys up, while dry retching, I jumped into the shower. There, under the streaming water, I proceeded to engage in what could only be described as a scrubbing and soaping frenzy. 10 minutes and 2 bottles of Curash baby bath later, all three of us emerged - naked, dripping wet but odourless. Hearing the phone ringing, I wrapped myself in a towel and raced up the corridor, my squeaky clean offspring crawling happily behind me.
The phone call was from a friend and after quickly giving her the details of my morning so far, I turned around to check on the boys to see them both disappearing out the front door, which in my haste to rid myself of unwanted smells, I had left open. Gripping my towel closed in one hand, still talking on the phone with my other, I headed out the front door to catch my boys... and this is where the problem with windy days becomes apparent. No sooner had I taken more than 6 steps out my front door, into that beautiful warm, windy day, then the front door closed behind me...locking me out of my house. Naked. Nude. Without a shred of clothing.
Oh the horror. Oh the sinking realisation when I heard the door start to swing shut. The split second just before it closed when I realised exactly what was going to occur.
Needless to say, I am proud of the fact that I did not just sit down on my front lawn and sob hysterically. No... I did not crumble. I did not cave into the overwhelming urge to shriek at the sky and I did what any mother/women/person who had any shred of dignity and sense left would do.
Clutching at my towel and the phone, I grabbed both boys by the closest arm and possibly a leg and dove into the back yard..... a teary and slightly shrill phone call to my bemused partner followed by a sudden detour in his schedule later... I was back inside.
So there you have it. The problem with windy days.... Hope you enjoyed reading it much more than I actually enjoyed living it.... but I am off to Bunnings..have to go and buy a door stop.