The rule of three

I've always been a believer in the rule of three.  But then there is the belief that we are in control of our destiny so if something bad happens I expect 2 more things to happen, therefore 2 more things will happen just because I expect them to happen and there really is no rule of three.  Sigh... who knows. But what I do know is that last night I experienced the rule of three.

It started out innocently enough.  I was flying Vivi over my head and she decided that it would be fun to spit up all over my face (and mouth).  Gross, but I had it coming since she had just eaten.  Nevertheless I decided that it was now bath time.  Now, there is a moment before easing one's baby into the bath when you are left very vulnerable holding a diaperless pee and poop machine in your arms.  Normally I get through this moment without any accidents.  But, staying true to the rule of three, little Vivi decides to warm me up with some pee. Somehow she manage to soak my shirt, bra and pants.  All three items were moments before pulled out of the dryer by a very proud mom because she had finally attacked the laundry.  This warranted a pretty big sigh.  Not wanting to spend bath time in pee soaked clothes, I changed into another set of newly washed lounge attire and tried it all over again.  This time Vivi held her pee and started splashing around like usual in the tub.  About 5 minutes later I heard a rumble.  I feared the worse, but only saw little bubbles rise to the surface.  Phew! Another 5 minutes goes by and then an explosion occurred under the surface that I swear must have been heard by the neighbors.  I didn't know what to do when I saw the shrapnel start to float to the surface.  Vivi was happy as a clam (side note-why are clams supposedly so happy?...thank goodness for google) but I knew that I had to get her out of the poop infested tub. Pleasant image eh? I scooped her up and just stood there.  Another outfit now soaked, only this time with a combination of poop and soapy bath water.  And I stood there.  I did not know what to do.  I empty the tub with my foot but there was still poop in it.  I couldn't set her down anywhere in the bath room so I just held her.  Finally I stripped down and got in the shower with her and we finished out adventure in there.  She was a perfect angel throughout it all, never blinking an eye.

So in twenty minutes I got puked on, peed on, and had to deal with poop in the tub.  The rule of three was complete.