Well, I had my first encounter with poop painting this week. For all of you Mommas out there reading this, I know you know exactly what I am talking about. For those of you who do not have a child yet... well just you wait!

Anyways, Tiny Tank and I were at home on a hot July day sweating in the blistering heat. I was worried about him overheating so I did what I thought was my best attempt at cooling him off and that was letting him crawl around in only a diaper. This seemed to be working really well for him as he cheerfully sat on the floor playing with his Fisher-Price Peek-A-Boo Blocks (He and I, LOVE these, by the way).

After several minutes of Tiny Tank being overly intrigued at the two small ducks that were encased in hard plastic I decided this was the perfect opportunity to run to the washroom and get a call in to my mother in law. I was on the phone speaking to Sexy Soldier's mom while tidying up the kitchen when I realized the house was quiet..... too quiet.

I looked around the corner of the kitchen and took two steps towards the living room when I noticed that there was something mustardy orange on my new rug from Winners. Wanting to take a closer look I leaned forward (the whole time still holding the phone to my ear and half-heartedly absorbing my mother-in-law's chatter) and got a whiff of the most fowl smelling, gag worthy stench ever.

As I began yelling at my two army animals for taking a doo-doo on the carpet, Tiny Tank turned around to see what I was blubbering about. His whole body was covered in the same god-awful poop that was painted all over the rug and as I looked closer, the TV, DVD player, Sexy Soldier's XBOX360, the hardwood floor, window and wall.

Screeching I reached for Tiny Tank just as he shoved not one, but both of his poop-smeared finger-painting hands into his mouth laughing in glee. Realizing that I was going to need both hands for dealing with this disaster I abruptly hung up on my mother-in-law with the meer explanation of "Got to Go, There's poop!"

Frantically, ripping Tiny Tank's fingers from his mouth, provoking a gut wrenching, ear shattering screech from his tiny mouth I scooped him up trying, but unsuccessfully, not to get myself covered in poo. Looking at the clock I realized with relief that Sexy Soldier was due to walk through the front door any minute now.

I grabbed my bag of trusty wipes and started swiping at the now cemented poop on Tiny Tank's tummy, praying to god that Sexy Soldier would be there soon to help me. One minute passed, then two, five and well... with a panicked look on my face, I realized he was running late. "Oh No!" I thought, "I am going to have to deal with this disaster myself!"

Moving Tiny Tank and I outside onto the door step I sat him on the stairs and began to unsuccessfully try to scrub the poop off of his body. He had it behind his ears, in between his toes and even on the bottom of his feet. Gagging and looking around for help, my eyes fell on my neighbour and good college friend's house next door.

Running over to her front door and pushing the bell in several hurried short blasts with Tiny Tank dangling two feet in front of me, my girlfriend opened up the door to my short hurried stutters of "Poop! Help NOW!!!"Like a true girlfriend she is, she came over to my doorstep where the two of us held tiny tank down and scrubbed cemented poop off of his whole tiny frame.

When did Sexy Soldier come home you ask? Just as my girlfriend left and I was throwing the remains of poop stained wipes into the trash.... Sigh... However, it was I, Military Momma who got the last laugh as Sexy Soldier, still in his army greens began scrubbing the carpet, walls and windows to remove the reminants of Tiny Tank's artful masterpiece.