I caught a whiff that H must've gone to the bathroom, and since it was near his bedtime routine anyway I started the bath before changing him.
While the tub filled with warm water and Mr.Bubble, I "cleaned" him up. There was only a little bit but he often goes in stages, and especially a favorite time is after bath (insert emoticon for rolling eyes if there is one).
After his hair and body were washed, and I listened to repeated pleading, I finally turned the shower on for him. Our washer & dryer are in that bathroom, and a laundry load had just finished. I started putting the clean clothes in the dryer while he practically narrated everything that was going on in the shower. Then I thought I smelled something.
I peek over and sure enough (I know it's gross, bear with me) there's a brown ball in the center of the tub. He was "upstream" from the accident so following a tic-like inspection I lifted him out there, wrapped a towel around him and plopped him on the toilet, not leaving him much chance to have a choice in the matter.
I removed & disposed of the object in the tub, grabbed the bleach from the laundry closet and starting pouring it on the porcelain.
Next thing I know, H stands up & starts wiping his butt with the bath towel. I quickly put it aside-- didn't even look to see if he was successful or not, because I didn't want to know. Then I put his bathrobe back on, but flipped the back up to his shoulders so he could sit down on the toilet again... neatly (for lack of a better word).
Once all the clean laundry was in the dryer and the washer was re-loaded with the newest dirty laundry (on hottest water/ double rinse cycle) plus extra detergent, and the bathtub was rid of any and all DNA... I tried to investigate the status of the toilet situation.
What began in his diaper and continued in the shower had finally, successfully (and properly!) concluded on the toilet.
He saw how happy and proud that I was, and immediately asked, "give me money?" I told him he was welcome to whatever was in my purse.
Once he was officially clean and I helped him in his PJs, he very patiently waited in his armchair. I looked in my wallet and realized I only had two dollars so I had to borrow another three from his bank. (A while ago we had to remove his bank from his room because he would not stop trying to open it.)
I sat down in front of him on the floor and I handed him the first dollar. "This is for sitting on the toilet," I began.
He smiled at the bill in his hand. I handed him the second dollar and said, "This is for pooping in the toilet."
He smiled at the two bills in his hands. I handed him the third dollar and repeated, "This is for sitting on the toilet."
He smiled at the three bills in his hands. I handed him the fourth dollar and repeated, "This is for pooping in the toilet."
He smiled at the four bills in his hands. I handed him the fifth dollar and repeated, "This is for sitting on the toilet."
He beamed at the five bills he was holding. I placed my hands on his knees and reiterated how proud I was. My eyes began to well up, and with that Hayden said, "oh, mooom," stood up and wrapped his arms around me.
My face was soaked.
I gave him permission to go tell Gad the good news (asleep from having worked night-shift), so together we went in the bedroom. Hayden was so anxious he was stuttering a little bit, but he got out, "poop" and "koi-let". I confirmed the story for Dan and Hayden received another beautiful congratulations.
We left Gad so he could go back to hibernating, went in the other room and sat down to watch some TV before bedtime. At one point H said something about his "coo gollars". He stood up and repeated "need coo gollars" or "where's coo gollars"...I can't recall exactly how he phrased it.
I looked at him and sure enough he had three singles in his hands.
My face was soaked again.
I tip-toed back in the bear cave, blinded by my own tears, only guided through the darkness by a mere glow from my make-shift cell phone flashlight.
There on the floor beside the bed, I found two dollars.
I don't think I could have been any more proud of him this evening unless he wrote this 89th blog post himself.
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