On the first day, Espen created PooPapalooza, on the second day he created...

Hot on the heels of yesterday's Poopfest, Espen woke with new mischief in store.

Unbeknownst to his sleepy parents, Espen was rallying the forces of soap everywhere before we were fully conscious.

Recall with me the button on yesterday's festivities. A dishwasher full of dish soap.

To be fair, Espen had given me the chance to join him in the kitchen at 6am but I politely declined, advising him cuddle in bed with me instead. He also politely declined my counter offer and proceeded to play quietly in the kitchen.


Go ahead. Start your prediction engines.


Sometime later, I hear Tobias' alarm go off and him padding down the hall to the kitchen.

"Good morning, Espen!" He says joyfully.

And then.

"Oh. Espen. What...."

The bells began to toll. Low and ominous, I moved slowly out of bed and inched towards the kitchen. Visions of a kitchen smeared in poop, dominated the horizon of possibility.

I turned the corner and beheld Espen and Tobias standing around the dishwasher. I admit, I felt momentary relief that there was no poo on the lid, but only for an instant.

The reason?

Our dishwasher lid was surrounded by three bottles of dish soap and dishwasher detergent. They were lying on their sides, lifeless victims of an over zealous toddler.

The lid itself, which is several inches deep, shimmered like a pond filled after a rainstorm. Part of me sighed in gratitude that it wasn't vomit.

Part of me thought, "Why didn't Tobias move all that crap after last night!?" And part of me thought, "Why do I smell poop."

Espen sidled over to me, smiling, holding his ice popcicle. I sniffed. "Did you poop, Espy?"

He shook his head even as I checked. Poop central. He smiled again, as if to say, "You are so lucky I left it in there."

The dishwasher however, was not so fortunate. My takeaway? Spatulas make excellent scoops for several gallons of soap. Get excited.