Maria Poop Hands

This blog is at least 9 months overdue.  But I can't let this story die without writing about it.

Last year, my year of Craigslist-related employment (aside from the theatre), I took a stint at a daycare, working in the 18-month-old classroom.  It will forever go down in history as one of the most challenging jobs I've ever had.  And I literally could regale anyone with hundreds of tales (horrors, really) from daycare.  But I digress.

The single most horrifying and hilarious day of work was this:  (Mind you, if you meet me in person, the sound effects that come with this story are really what make it gold.)  There was an adorable little girl in my class named Maria.  She was a spit-fire.  Pre-mature but strong as hell.  Wild.  Crazy.  Constantly in trouble. Always throwing toys, hitting other kids, scaling walls.  This kid was so much trouble and so much work, so naturally, she was my favorite while all my coworkers thought I was crazy.

Maria was nearing two-years-old so she was speaking pretty well.  At lunch time she always asked me "A-whatchoo have Kay-Tee?"  To which I would respond something along the lines of "It's soup Maria." "I see soup!" she would demand, and then I would have to show her my soup in order to calm her intrigue over my very boring meal.  At this same time of the day, Maria would, like clockwork, flip her plate of unwanted food onto the floor.  Everyday, I would sweep it up and everyday I would answer her same inquiry "A-wha-happened Kay-Tee?"  To this I always replied in a very dry tone, "you threw your food on the floor, Maria."  To which she would ask "A-why?"  To which I'd respond, "I don't know, you tell me!"  "A-why?"  "Because I don't know why you throw your plate on the floor."  "A-why?"  I went on and on with her out of boredom with this line of inquiry, but you get the point.

One day, after cleaning up the table, we were putting kids down for their naps.  Routine was to take them from the table one-by-one, change them, and get them in their crib.  Now Maria had a habit of stripping off her clothes and throwing everything out of her crib the second she was placed inside of it, therefore, she was always last to be changed.

On this particular day, I was down to two kids at the table, Maria and Mark, and I was changing one.  As I was doing so, I hear a horrified scream come from the table.  I look up at Maria and she is staring at her hands, looking mortified.  Her face is red and she is in tears.  I see something brown on both of her hands but am too far away to recognize the offending substance.  I quickly change the kid I have, put her in the crib and make my way over to Maria.  Well, you may have guessed, but Maria  stuck her hands deep into her diaper and then pulled them out.  Poop, all over.  I had to pick her up as she cries out "A-WHAT-HAPPENED-KAY-TEE????!!!???"  To which I frantically respond "You put your hands in your diaper Maria!!!!!!!!"  "A-WHHHHYYYYY??!!??"  "I.DON'T.KNOW.  YOU. TELL. ME.!!!"  And at this point everyone was crying including myself.

The kicker to the story is Mark, who was sitting next to Maria, mimicked her.  So as soon as I cleaned Maria, and I walked over to Mark and I realized that he too had stuck his hands in his diaper and was covered in poop.

And the kick-kicker is, when her parents got to school, of course we told them what happened.  To this they responded with a beaten tone, "That's nothing.  Last week, she pooped, stripped off all of her clothes and was running around with poop in her hair...in the park."