Last Stand at the Porcelain Corral

How is it that I go a couple days with out blogging only to have 5 different post inspirations come about in the same day and then have all 5 trumped at the last minute by another story about poop?!  I don't want to write about it, but it's like being a traffic reporter. ... you can't avoid discussing the really horrific wrecks.  So after a long and tiring weekend with out mama, who was in Santa Barbara, we got home last night and I tossed the girls in the tub for a much needed soak.  I should mention at this time - and we'll talk plenty more about it this week - that we're moving in a few days.  I've mentioned how cramped our tiny condo has gotten and that the neighborhood is not good for our girls to grow up in - constantly stressing that I'm looking for any way out.  Well, we found it.  My in-laws have reconverted what was their original house (since incorporated to be part of the garage) back in to a living space; so we're moving in with them and renting our condo until we can save up enough of a deposit on a new house.  This should provide much fodder for the blog.  Anyway, let's get back to the story.  The girls were done with their bath, so I got Genevieve out, dried off and jammied up.  I went back to the bathroom to find Arianna standing up and red faced.  Now this kid has a tough time doing the deed.  Rule of thumb with her is never touch the pooping baby.  My problem, though, is she's still standing in the bath. ...and she's recently been cleaned.  After trying to convince her for a minute or two to come out and sit on the toilet, and having her flail like a rabid monkey when I touch her, I abandoned hope and took up action.  Like an old western movie I cleared the civilians (bath toys) out of the streets and I preemptivly drained the water, so if it dropped she wasn't standing in poop water.  I readied the wipies and braced.  We locked eyes.  A dog barked.  A cat hair tumble weed rolled across the bathroom floor.  And then she shouted "Cacccaaaaaa!" as the redness in her face broke and she inhaled deeply.  I dove, arm outstretched and wrapped around her back side.  Crisis averted.  As the townsfolk cheered from their drying spot on the bathtub ledge and the last of the water swirled down the drain, I flushed the nemesis down the porcelain god and pulled a still clean baby from the bathroom.