When Cuteness Backfires
It’s a difficult lesson to learn, and one that all experienced mothers probably know, but it’s worth repeating: never leave your almost-two-year-old child in the dryer.
Sure, it’s cute when she climbs in there, screaming in delight at the echo, enjoying her little cylindrical fort, which is just the right-size cubby for 24 pounds of giggly girl silliness. And it’s not like you’re worried she’ll somehow turn the damn thing on. I mean, she’d have to 1. be really smart. And let’s face it, 21 month olds are not very electronically savvy, no matter how much the genius you think them to be; and 2. have three-foot-long arms that bend at improbably angles to be able to turn the knob on the timer; and 3. have some handle on bending the space-time continuum, as she’d have to somehow retract the arm to close the dryer door and THEN push the start button. So, really, you’re not worried for her safety.
And you’re running through all these justifications for leaving her in the dryer, you are, as you’re running at warp three to grab the camera (which is downstairs) to capture the moment so that when she’s 17 and dating you can humiliate her and totally freak out her date so that he/she will never be able to look at your precious child’s naked body without outright laughing in her face, because….
Well, that 21 month old is naked. In your dryer.
The dryer you almost broke a shoulder getting up the stairs, stairs that were not made wide enough for such hefty appliances. The dryer that almost alienated a good friend, who is really sick of being cajoled into moving your stuff around. Again. The dryer that is the coolest dryer you’ve ever had because YOU would never pay that much for a dryer that was hardly used, but your mom would, as a present to the happy couple.
So you get back, and to your amazement, the child is NOT on permanent press cycle, tumbling around willy nilly. Rather, she is still amused, but she’s now trying to get out. But you HAVE to take the picture. After all, you have yet another chapter for your book on bad mommying, and you might as well have a photo to go along with the story. So you snap a few photos, none of which really catch the essence of baby in dryer. And then, through the lens, you notice she’s really expending some effort to get out of the dryer, but she’s stuck on her knees and can’t get them out from behind her, even with the grunting.
Yeah, and then you see that horrific gloop of brown stuff drop from between her legs and splooch onto the surface on the inside of your dryer, and the cherubic girl face sighs just a little before redoubling her efforts to get out, and now NOW you rush to her aid, not so much to save her, but to just MOVE her and witness the consequence of your parental hubris, the pieta of your momentary maternal negligence.
The steaming pile of baby poo in your dryer will be stuck forever in your memory bank. Another lesson learned. Don’t you love being a mommy!
ROFL!! “Honey, why do the towels smell like poo?” I still think poo in the bathtub is the worst. Although, its funny when they look at you like, “I told you!” Lesson learned in listening to your child.