A Tale of 2 Voyagers, on a Pooptastic Voyage

I have seen, in many times and many ways, that when the s#@* hits the fan, Theresa is unflappable.  Cool as can be. Blood spurting from a wound - no problem. Mangled limb bent backwards - childs play, *yawn*.  Thus it came as some surprise to see a complete decompensation when someone code-browned the bathtub.  You know what I'm talking about.  One minute, two toddlers splashing and sharing an innocent bath, the next an adult is screaming, all children are looking about confused/guiltily/ashamedly, and a red-faced Mommy is telling Daddy "No, this is not OK, and they need to know it!"  Never mind that it's a small miracle that 1 of our 2 children is mostly potty trained, and that no clothes/carpets/cars/furniture were harmed in the making of a raft of snickers-like doodles.

An hour later all was well, a second Bubblebath had washed the slurry of loathed particulates away, and everyone was laughing and humming the music to "Jaws."  I had to share this little vignette, though, particularly in light of my well-documented diaper challenges earlier in my career as a father, and the fact that it's just so hard to find anything Theresa hasn't been doing wonderfully as a mother.  I'm just glad she didn't see Madelyn faceplant earlier today after I accidentally put both her legs down one pants-leg, I'm sure I never would have heard the end of that...