Poop.

Yesterday we went to Dutch's swim lesson, and left early* in order to catch the bus downtown to go to a meeting with a staffperson for one of our senators. It had been set up by a politically active mom, and there were quite a few of us there, including a number of kids. On the way there, Skipper pooped. Skipper doesn't poop very often, so when she poops, it's not in a small way. We were just barely on time, so I wasn't able to change her, and figured I'd just let her stew in her own juices until after the meeting. When I took her out of the wrap in the meeting room, it became clear that she had soiled her pants and onesie, and the wrap. (Not my shirt, fortunately.) We sat there quietly and odorifically, and posed for photos (with the big poop stains turned away from the camera) and I said my piece about the public option.

I'm glad we went, for me, but also for Dutch. I explained the concept of healthcare reform for what seemed like hours to Dutch, but she doesn't really get it (because, hey, she's FOUR). Nor does she understand anything about the whole elected legislator thing. But I'm glad I took her, regardless. It was an unusual opportunity for her to peek into the legislative machinery. I'm not sure what she took away from it - probably nothing. Mostly, she was impressed by how fancy the office was (not that it was all that fancy - geez, they didn't even have diaper-changing facilities). She was kind of intimidated. But she really likes the reward she earned for being quiet and polite during the meeting.**


* I suggested that she just skip the lesson, given that she'd miss a third of it anyway, but she was adamant about going.
** Sparkly plastic hairclips shaped like butterflies. Of course.