Despatches #4

>> Thursday, 21 May 2009

The first salvo came early.

It had been a quiet night. The soldier on sentry duty had heard no sound; all was calm. This was a relief, because after a full day in sole command, and a playdate to round things off in the late afternoon, she was absolutely knackered. She had gone through her checklist at the end of the day, making sure kit and rations were present and correct for roll-call next morning at 0700 hours, and then retired to keep watch over her charges, later than planned as usual.

At 0600 hours, the call for help came through on the radio, an hour earlier than expected.

"I need a poo! I need a poo! I NEED A POO!"

The soldier threw herself wearily out of the trench, picking up speed as she raced through the debris from the previous day's battle, muttering under her breath as she sustained an injury to the foot. Detritus - the worst kind - from yesterday's skirmish littered the hall; the booby-trap consisted of tiny pieces of lego plane no doubt brought down by enemy fire in the early evening yesterday. Picking miniscule pieces of yellow and blue plastic out from her toes she flung open the bedroom door to reveal the scene within.

The top bunk; empty, it's occupant making his presence known by the crashing sounds coming from the sitting room. The bottom bunk though was occupied by a soldier in desperate need of aid. She scooped him up, racing towards the bathroom and salvation. Would they make it in time?

Some little time later, wiping her brow in relief, she and the stricken soldier commenced the clean-up operation. They had made it - just. The missing solder from the top bunk wandered in dressed for battle in a cowboy hat and pyjama top, waving a green plastic toy tennis racket which he was using as a some unidentified form of weapon. He surveyed the scene. He looked at the damage. He checked out his younger brother. And then he said:

"Wow. Boy #2, that is ENORMOUS."

The sentry, still wiping the sleep from her eyes, flushed the evidence away. Situation saved, and under control.

Until the next time...

9 comments:

Potty Mummy 21 May 2009 at 15:32  

I couldn't have put it better myself...

The Gossamer Woman 21 May 2009 at 16:12  

The sentry is on duty 24/7 and must get awfully tired, if not disgusted with some of her duties, especially the enormous ones. Little kids do produce amazing ones,don't they? Can't you get him to run to the toilet by himself yet? Or is he afraid he'll fall in?

Iota 21 May 2009 at 18:24  

And is the movie entitled "The Longest Day", by any chance?

Potty Mummy 22 May 2009 at 10:17  

Irene, he does go by himself. But his clean-up technique does need double checking (he is only 3, after all).

Iota, no, that's today. My mother in law is here.

DulwichDivorcee 22 May 2009 at 19:36  

PM, sounds as though you are winning the battle ...and definitely deserve a medal. Hope all goes well today!

Lisa (Jonny's Mommy) 23 May 2009 at 00:45  

Good job, soldier!


For this we decorate you with the Poopie Heart. Er...purple heart!

The Gossamer Woman 24 May 2009 at 10:05  

Hi PM, I have an award for you over at my place. Please come and get it.

Motherhood The Final Frontier 30 May 2009 at 22:41  

Oh dear, wiping eyes, so funny! I've been catching up on posts from when I was away.
How do such small creatures create such GIANT poos? Where do they keep them? Practically larger than the person that contains them. And the noises that the child can make while grunting them out. Quite astonishing.
Love this post. I think you really deserve a medal.

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